35 days to go

I think I wrote something about posting soon/more often? Right.

I just can't imagine that anything I might write here would be of very much interest to anyone but me. I'm still feeling surprisingly well, so far exempt from most pregnancy complaints. The one that won't let up is the exhaustion. I never did get that second trimester burst of energy, and now the fatigue is as strong as it was in the beginning.

I love watching my stomach move of its own accord, and trying to figure out what my daughter is doing in there. As of our appointment last week, she is breech. I am hoping, hoping, hoping that she will turn. Unfortunately, I have a low placenta (not previa, though, thank goodness) and I have read that a low placenta can take up so much room in the lower uterus that a breech position becomes roomier than head down. I am terrified of a c-section, so we will be trying everything we can to get her to turn. Including hanging upside down, playing music to my pelvis, and shining a bright flashlight up the preferred exit route.

We are mostly prepared, in terms of acquiring all the requisite baby stuff. There is a car seat in the back seat of my car. I still need to have the installation checked. And decide on a pediatrician. Oh, and the childcare situation is still up in the air, which sometimes keeps me awake for hours in the middle of the night, and sometimes makes me cry. But the nursery is ready, and beautiful. She has a closet full of adorably tiny clothes. I sit in the rocker in the room that will be her room, and I feel so happy. I can't believe how close we are to finally, finally holding the baby we dreamed of for so many years.

Here are a couple of gooey anecdotes, so look away now if you are not in the mood.

I mentioned to Jack that sometimes it tickles when Iggy moves, and he said, "Oh, I guess that's why you laugh." Unbeknownst to me, I laugh in my sleep these days. I have never in my life laughed in my sleep, and now I do it regularly, tickled on the inside by our child.

Jack is going to be such a good father. I love to watch him rub and kiss my stomach, and talk to Iggy. I can tell that he loves her already, that we are already a family of three.

Five weeks to go.

27 weeks

Only ninety days to go... I can't believe it! In the beginning I never really imagined I would get this far. Now Iggy is kicking, punching, and hiccuping away, making her* presence known so often that even I have come to accept that there really is a baby in there.

As I enter the last week of the second trimester I would have to say that so far this has been a very easy pregnancy physically. In fact, I have been so free of physical symptoms and complaints that for a long while it was hard (even harder) to really believe this longed-for but unexpected pregnancy was true.

Medically it has been fairly uneventful as well. One early, small bleed that frightened me to death but posed no danger to Iggy and has not recurred. An ultrasound that showed a low-lying placenta, but it's not previa and my doctor is not concerned.

Emotionally, however, I have been all over the map. I thought all my worries would be about Iggy's very survival, but at some point I became remarkably calm about that. I still don't take it for granted, but I don't think I worry about it any more than I worry about Jack being killed in a car accident (which is to say that I know it is possible, and occasionally it crosses my mind, but I don't dwell on it).

What I am worrying myself sick over is money, childcare, and how we will all survive my unpaid leave without starving to death. (I exaggerate... a little.) I don't think I need to say anything about the economy, but it has definitely impacted Jack's income (in addition to his salary he makes commissions and sales-based bonuses which have virtually dried up). It has also hurt both of our parents, probably worse than it has hurt us, actually, so that while a year or two ago they would most likely have helped out a great deal with some of the initial expenses related to bringing a baby into the world, now they simply are not able. We will make it through my leave on our savings, but after that we will have no safety net, no reserve. It makes me nervous. And when I return to work I will make less money, both because I will be working slightly reduced hours for awhile and because the money for childcare will come out of my income. I should be (and am) grateful that we both still have jobs, but I hate feeling stretched. We have been doing everything we can to hold down expenses and try to build our savings up that little bit more each month, but it is difficult and I have trouble seeing how we will manage to survive on even less when we have added a third person to the family.

And childcare... I don't think I even want to delve into that at the moment. Suffice it to say that I have found an arrangement I am reasonably happy with (as happy as I can be with the thought of leaving her in the care of anyone other than Jack or myself) but they will not accept her until she is six months old. My leave is twelve weeks, so assuming I manage to work up until the day I go into labor she will only be three months old when it ends. What we will do for those next three months is still completely up in the air and I am quickly reaching the point where I can't think about it without panicking.

There's more (and happier things) to share, but Jack is walking in the door. I will try to post again soon.

* I never came by here to share the news . . . Iggy is a little girl! We could not be more thrilled. Jack wants everything to be pink (which quite frankly surprises me) and I found myself reining him in a bit in regards to over the top girly-frilly things that he wanted to put on the registry. I would have thought it would be the other way around.

eek! there is baby stuff in my house!

A belated happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrated yesterday. I have never had more to be thankful for than I do this year: finally, finally pregnant and able to share the news in person with our far-flung extended family, all gathered together for one day of eating, and laughing, and catching-up, and eating, and gossiping, and gratitude, and taking long walks together so that we could eat some more.

After dinner, my brother surprised me with an incredible gift of baby clothes and sundries, passed along to me from his sister-in-law who had a baby last year. Now that we are home again, I have placed the boxes in the room-that-will-be-a-nursery-one-day, where I have unpacked, examined, and repacked everything twice. So much baby stuff in my house makes this feel even more real than sharing the news with my grandparents yesterday did.

God willing, fingers crossed, and etc., etc., I think we are going to have a baby next spring!

so sick of my job

I haven't talked about my job in a long time.

Right now, I hate it.

Once upon a time, I loved it. But for the last year or so, I've known that I have outgrown it. I have learned everything I can learn here, and there is no path for advancement unless my immediate boss decides to retire, in which case I'm pretty sure I could have her job. But she shows no signs of retiring any time soon.

It's not all bad. I love the people I work with (well, for the most part!). And my responsibilities are varied enough that I am very rarely bored.

The real problem is that the lack of paid maternity leave makes me feel trapped. I try to schedule all my doctor appointments ridiculously early in the morning so that I can get to work on time. It doesn't matter how exhausted I am, I can't take an afternoon off. It doesn't matter how much I would like to have an extra day to spend with my family this Thanksgiving, I can't take a vacation day. Because I know how much I will need that little bit of paid time off in May. I get 12 weeks of leave, but the only bits that will be paid are the bits of sick time and vacation time I have managed to save. If I hadn't used any of it, that would be four weeks of paid leave. But I've already had to use four days. Ugh. And my new contract year (based on date of hire) won't reset until after I should be back from my maternity leave. So instead of scheduling a vacation day here and there, or taking a half-day of sick leave for a doctor's visit and a nap, I show up at work all day every day and feel resentful and trapped. It is not good.

_____________________________________

Speaking of doctor's visits, and really this should have been the headline, I had an appointment yesterday and we heard Iggy's heartbeat loud and strong! Next appointment is December 11, and that will be the big anatomy scan as well. I don't know how I will be able to wait four weeks! I am so grateful and amazed to have made it this far. And I think I will have to buy some maternity pants soon. Before getting in the shower today I was startled to see my reflection in the mirror sporting a linea nigra already. But upon closer inspection, it was a linea zipper. Time to put those pants away.

14 weeks

Fourteen weeks today. Technically, I think we are out of the first trimester by now. Or maybe it's the end of this week? I can't seem to find a definitive answer to this question. But,the common wisdom seems to be that we are sailing out of the dangerous waters. Anything could still happen; unfortunately I am all too aware of that. But I think we have reached a point at which it verges on the ridiculous to not plan for a future that includes a baby. I don't mean buying out Babies r us, I mean trying to figure out how much to put aside in our 2009 flexible health spending account to cover a hospital stay for delivery, and planning for a maternity leave that will be mostly unpaid (except for whatever is left of my vacation and sick time, but that won't be much), and signing up for a prepared childbirth class. Things like that. I'm starting to feel negligent for not addressing them.

But I still fear that making plans is inviting fate to screw with those plans. Although these past 13 weeks have been largely uneventful, there have been those things that still make me nervous when I think of them. Like my progesterone level, which has been lower since I stopped the supplements. In the 18-21 range. My ob insists this is within the range of normal and nothing to worry about, but I worry. Stopping the metformin also makes me nervous. Although my blood sugar was normal when tested, so maybe that's just me looking for things to be nervous about. I also worry that Iggy doesn't move much during our ultrasounds. I had one at my last ob visit, just because my doctor knew I was worried and would feel better if I could take a look inside. There was absolutely nothing unusual that concerned the ultrasound tech, but Iggy only hiccuped twice, there was no dancing or waving, and the tech did a lot of probing to try to make Iggy move. I know logically that none of these things are big concerns to anyone else, but... I just worry.

I also can't seem to figure out how to tell people that I am pregnant. We have told our immediate families, our closest friends, the entire internet, and my boss, but we have sworn all these people to secrecy. The plan is to tell our extended family in person at Thanksgiving, and I am unbelievably excited about that. But I have no idea how to tell the people I work with. Or the administrative people above my immediate boss. I don't know why I am at such a loss. I just can't figure out what to say, or if certain people should be told in a certain order, politically, and what that order should be. Maybe I will just wait until I am so obviously huge that people start asking and then I will say, "Oh, yes, I am pregnant. Didn't I tell you?".

As far as symptoms and signs, I still don't have much. I was never sick, just hungry all the time which has either abated or just seems normal now. I have gained 5 pounds, and have trouble buttoning most of my pants, but the only place that actually looks larger to me is my breasts, which are a bit fuller but not incredibly obviously so. My main symptom has been exhaustion. It actually lifted for a couple of weeks, but it's back with a vengeance this week which I hope means that the placenta has really started cranking out the progesterone. We'll see at my next doctor visit.

graduation day

Today was our last visit to Dr. Cautious. Next week I have an appointment with my gyn (now my ob!). The graduation is bittersweet. Who am I kidding? It's mostly bitter. I mean, yes, it's unbelievably wonderful that this pregnancy has continued for so long that our RE feels the need to kick us out. But... I trust these people. Our relationship has been brief, but intense. I feel safe in their care. AND! They give us weekly peeks inside to see how Iggy (we are trying this out as a nickname for the gender-unknown-embryo-soon-to-be-a-fetus-hopefully-to-be-a-baby-one-day) is growing and make sure everything is ok. I don't know how many scans my ob will hand out, but I know they will be much fewer and further between.

In our final meeting with Dr. Cautious, she told us over and over again that we were amazing, to have done this on our own. I corrected her... we are not amazing so much as we are amazed. Still. Probably always will be. When we said good-bye she hugged me tightly. I can't even imagine being hugged by my former RE. I know who we'll be going back to when (if?) it's time to try this again.

So, I'm getting a little more accustomed to this pregnancy thing. Which is not to say that it's not still terrifying. I had a scare earlier this week when I discovered a little bit of red and pink spotting. We went in right away for a scan, and Iggy was fine, heart beating, and dancing away. No sign of problems in the uterus. The nurse practitioner we saw could find no evidence of any more bleeding at my cervix and thought it could have been from irritation to the vaginal walls. Still, I have never been so frightened. But there's been no recurrence, and the official word from the medical professionals was not to worry.

There are other things I can worry about. Mostly my progesterone level. Even on supplementation it hasn't budged for two weeks in a row. It's just hanging out at 33. Or the fact that Iggy barely moved at today's scan, just waved at us once, although on Tuesday Iggy wouldn't be still long enough to take measurements.

But what can I do? So, while I worry, I am also starting to look ahead just a little. This week at the library I didn't just check out books on pregnancy. I also took one on baby names, and one on birth. Childbirth! It feels very surreal to have that book sitting on my coffee table.

advice, please

Things continue to go well, much to my astonishment and gratitude. I'm still not completely comfortable with the idea that this pregnancy is real, and will really result in a baby, but I think it's slowly sinking in.

We met with Dr. Cautious last week to discuss the ultra-screen (blood tests + nuchal translucency scan) test to check for Down Syndrome. Going in, I assumed that since there is zero risk to the pregnancy, there was no reason not to have the test. Dr. Cautious, however, felt that if we know we would not terminate based on DS, then it is best not to do the test because statistically we are already not at high risk and the results can create a lot of unnecessary stress for people who mostly have normal pregnancies anyway, and push people towards invasive testing (amniocentesis, etc) that does carry a small risk to the pregnancy.

What do you think? Have you had this test done? Did you receive a false positive? I really don't need additional stress (I create plenty for myself), but I was hoping we would do the test and receive a reassuring result which might help me feel better.

Jack and I can't decide. He is much more leery of amniocentesis than I am (which I find a little strange, since no one will be stabbing him with a huge needle). I have more of a desire to know whatever is knowable. But again, the false positives, the stress! And we have to decide soon since we are 8 weeks now and the test can only be performed between 11 and 13 weeks.

things are good

Very quick update as Jack is in the other room and doesn't know about this blog (well, he know it exists, but not specifically where it is located).

Anyway...

1. Thank you!

and

2. Scan yesterday and all is well. Little heart beating away. Next peek is next Thursday. I am feeling very reassured.

terrified is winning

Thank you all for your good thoughts. They mean so much to me. We have told very few people in "real life", so it's nice to know that you are out there.

I am terrified. I am so afraid that something terrible will happen and I will lose this pregnancy. Or worse, that I already have but I just don't know it yet.

Jack is not afraid. Not at all. He is waiting on me hand and foot so that I can rest. Today, on his lunch break, he went to B@bies R Us, "just to look around". He really thinks we are going to have a baby in May. And that I am gestating that baby at this very moment.

I want this so very badly. But I am having trouble believing it is possible.

Next peek inside is Thursday morning. Please still be there, little one, please.

i think that maybe, um, possibly, i might be, well, pregnant?

Which is to say that I have a positive pee stick in my purse, and feel compelled to keep it near me at all times.

Should I back up? I've left a lot of stuff out since I last visited this blog.

My leg healed. We bit the bullet and bought (took out a loan to buy) a car. We visited a new RE.

The new RE was thorough and compassionate and basically told us that she would go straight to IVF if it were her choice, but that we could also try another round or two of injectables + iui if that was our preference. She also recommended a few additional tests (results of which were all normal). And, during my physical examination, found a lump in my breast (which resulted in a mammogram, sonogram, and follow-up with a breast specialist, but which all seems normal).

So, we were (are?) leaning toward IVF. They have a 2 cycle shared risk progam that sounds good, and my parents came through with an offer of a loan to pay for it. We were just waiting, and waiting, and waiting for all the follow-ups related to my (most likely fibrocystic, but I do have one more follow-up with the specialist to make sure) breast lump, and scheduling the additional tests the RE wanted to do, and then waiting on those results, and then waiting to hear from the RE's office about whether I would be required to do a clomid challenge test (one of the prerequisites for the shared risk ivf program).

And I was feeling bloated, and my breasts were really sore, which made me suspect I had managed to ovulate on my own. And many days passed. And I began to wonder if I might be? Should I test? But, no. Peeing on sticks has only ever led to one result for me so it seemed incredibly pointless. But, really, if I did ovulate, shouldn't I have had a period by now? And if I didn't ovulate what was going on with my breasts?

So on Monday morning I decided I had to know, crept out of bed, stealthily removed a test from the drawer in Jack's nightstand (I had not mentioned my suspicions to him because I was sure I was wrong and I didn't want both of us to suffer) and headed for the bathroom.

The positive line came up before the control line. I can't remember but I don't think I even washed my hands. I screamed "Wake up!" while I jerked my underwear back up and ran to the bedroom. I turned on the lights and Jack sat up, blinking, thinking something horrible had happened. I put the positive (!) test in his hands and sat there in shock next to him.

"What does this mean?" he asked.
"I think it means we're pregnant" I answered, then grabbed his hand and put it over my heart so he could feel how quickly it was beating. My hands were shaking. He thought I was having a panic attack.

I went to new RE's office for a blood test. When was my last period? Hell if I know. But it came back very definitely pregnant. Beta almost 8000, but progesterone only 14. They called in prescriptions for me for progesterone supplements and prenatal vitamins. Scheduled me for a sonogram on Tuesday.

On Tuesday, with Jack holding my hand, we saw a gestational sack measuring 5 weeks 3 days. Everyone at the office said "congratulations" but the mood was not celebratory. I thought something was wrong. Jack thought I was worrying too much. They scheduled us for a second sonogram and more bloodwork on Thursday.

On Wednesday, my doctor called to prepare me for bad news. She thought the sonogram results were inconsistent with the hcg levels, and that I probably had a blighted ovum. We talked about next steps. I could tell that the conversation was almost as difficult for her as it was for me. I cried on my way to work, and my way home from work.

But! On Thursday, this time not holding Jack's hand so much as clutching his arm, we saw a gestational sack, yolk sack, fetal pole, and a heartbeat! Measuring 5 weeks 5 days. We left giddy, and tearful, and clutching a picture of a gray circle with a white spot or two.

New RE, whom I now think I will dub Dr. Cautious, although she could just as easily be Dr. Compassionate, called to say that the results were "great news" and that we would take things "one week at a time". She also doubled my progesterone supplementation. I go back in one week for another scan and another round of bloodwork.

I keep saying to Jack, "we might be pregnant" and he keeps answering, "we ARE pregnant."

Thrilled and terrified. Neither word begins to cover it.