Where I am: 6w5d
Symptoms: tired almost all the time, boobs sore all the time (feel best in a bra, grumble grumble), nausea, digestive issues, food (and smell) aversions…
I’m sorry it’s been a while. You’ll read what J and I have been up to in the unprotected post.
I’m closing in on 7w already. The symptoms keep me somewhat grounded, but for the most part I am just constantly trying to keep myself calm and distracted. I am slowly creeping up on what I’m dubbing the “Red Zone” (8-12w), which is probably where I will be the most high-strung and psychotic about this pregnancy. Sure, I’ll probably worry all the time, because RPL just does that to you, but I’ve never made it past 9w. And, as you all know, I walked around thinking I had a growing baby in my tummy for nearly a month, only to find out at my NT scan that Baby Bean had passed only days (maybe hours) after my 8w6d scan. Right now…like my good friend ACalmPersistence is, I’m in low gear. Cruising along nice and slow. Just sputtering along, keeping the gears running but not too fast. I think I’m officially in the single digits of days until my 8w ultrasound.
The symptoms are in full-ish swing. My stomach feels crappy pretty much all day, every day. Bowel movements are a joke. I also sometimes get no warning as to when they would like to make an appearance. So that’s fun.
I am pretty sure I wake up at least once every night to pee. The record so far was the other night…it was four or five. Definitely the forerunner for most times in one night.
I know this has zero to do with not having room (because Bug is not taking up any of my breathing space) but I am constantly needing to take deep breaths. Or yawn, to get enough oxygen. I’ve heard this is because of increased blood volume? I take that as a good sign, as well. I’m also exhausted all the time, so…also a reason for the excessive yawning.
I swear, I intend to blog nearly every day, and never get around to doing so. I’m guessing it’s because I’m tired. Because there’s nothing really to blog about, except symptoms. My fear. My intense desire to be in the second trimester already so I can feel the slightest bit of relief.
There is something I do want to talk about. My next appointment…my ultrasound. It’s being done in one of the facilities in Boston, because my RE only works where I live a few days a week for a few hours at a time. He mostly works in Boston, and does a lot of IVF procedures and OB surgeries in other facilities and hospitals around the city (he’s a busy man!), and unless I wanted to wait another week, I had to go my practice’s Boston location.
Which is where I had my last ultrasound on Christmas Eve. The day I found out Baby Bean was gone.
It doesn’t panic me…yet. I know that when we head in on that Friday morning, though, I’ll be freaking out. The good thing is, because of my leg, we’ll be driving and not riding in on the train. Hopefully that makes a difference to my anxiety level. But still…same facility. A week’s worth of time shy of when my last baby’s heart stopped beating. I think it’s safe to say I might suffer some extreme PTSD. But I am going to hope the deepest of hopes that there is a good outcome.
I still feel like this pregnancy isn’t really real yet. I’m still ever waiting for that other shoe to drop. I feel like I am reading a bad book, and I know how it’s going to end, but I keep reading anyway.
That was morbid. And sad. And more depressed-sounding than I intended. I don’t know, I guess this is how I’ll feel for a while. It does suck, to not be able to fully enjoy everything. As much as I feel like we, J and I, are enjoying things. He calls me “pregnant wife” or mentions the baby at least once a day. I guess it’s kind of like a dream. It feels real, and I can be happy in the dream, but there’s that nagging feeling in the back of my head like I know I’m dreaming and will inevitably wake up.
I guess that’s the same analogy of the book. Jesus, I’m just going to shut up about it now. I slept 10 hours last night, but I’m still tired. My brain doesn’t want to work. (I was also just on a conference call for two and a half hours. So…there’s that.)
I have more frustrations I’d like to blog about, also password-protected, that aren’t directly pregnancy-related, but that’s for another time when I can emotionally and physically handle actually writing it all out.
For now…I’ll leave you with this. Only 9 days until my next appointment.