Protected: I Don’t Want to Share; Is That Too Much to Ask?

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Advertisements

I’m a Little Stressed

I’m too busy to write a real entry, seriously. I’m desperately trying to get together paperwork and scanning it into USAA so they can continue processing our loan application. I want to get as much done as early as possible, as the inspection is first thing tomorrow morning at 8:30. It’s about a 20min drive, so we’ll be up before 6:30, if not earlier. Oi!

So yes. I’m a bit stressed. And I have zero time for blogging.

I’ll be back later! Maybe later this week, maybe not.

O_o

My Stubborn Little Bug

Where I am: 11w5d
Medications: Crinone (single-digit countdown until the last day I take this)
Symptoms: still tired, still sore boobs, still nausea, still slow digestion, still food/smell hypersensitivity and aversions, still congestion, still constipation


Lucky Bug is doing just fine.

Moving around, punching and kicking like crazy! Quite the active baby. Measuring right on time, with a heartbeat in the 160s (either 163 or 168, I forget). I think the NT was good, as the level was only .9mm (and Dr. Google says anything under 1.5mm or something is good). I had my blood taken as well, so we won’t know the results for a while. Pretty sure I have more blood taken at 14w. I forget.

I really wish I could write more, but I am SWAMPED with mortgage stuff. There is not enough time in the world to be pregnant, switching jobs, about to start school, and buying a house. Really, truly, there is not.

But I wanted to update you. LB is good. Hubby and I both watched it on the screen for 20mins. It was beautiful, wonderful, absolutely amazing. I’ll check in after my CNM appointment on Friday, as that is the day both hubby and I get to listen to the heartbeat! I’ll be 12w2d by then! What?!

😀

I Hope You Can Hear Me When I Say I Love You and Don’t Ever Leave

Where I am: 11w4d
Medications: Crinone (single-digit countdown until the last day I take this)
Symptoms: still tired, still sore boobs, still nausea, still slow digestion, still food/smell hypersensitivity and aversions, still congestion, still constipation


I still have symptoms. I guess I still feel pregnant.

And yet, that doesn’t stop the paralyzing fear about tomorrow.

I just keep thinking about Christmas Eve. I know, it’s not the same. I know this pregnancy has progressed much, much better than my pregnancy with Baby Bean. I know that I’ve already surpassed where I was that time. Lucky Bug is a fighter. So strong, defying the odds. Come hell or high water, this little one has kept going.

But I cannot stop thinking about that day.

I think about that moment when the technician turns on the machine, and the picture shows up on that giant wall monitor. I’m scared of what I’ll see. I’m scared I won’t see an 11w5d fetus, but something smaller. Underdeveloped. Without a heartbeat. I’m scared of that deafening silence of the technician. I’m scared of the questions about my LMP, and the gestational age at the last scan. I’m scared of the dreaded “I need to consult with a doctor, I’ll be right back” line. I’m scared of the moment one of them reaches out their hand and touches mine, gently, to tell me my baby has died.

And I know…I really do, I know. I have to be positive. And I’m not saying that’s what I’m expecting. In fact, a small part of me is hoping—and expecting—to see a healthy LB in there. Based on how I’ve been feeling. But that’s the problem. I’ve found a part of myself has slipped into that sense of comfort, into that sense of maybe everything will be okay. It was so hard not to say anything to my brother and his girlfriend today at her graduation party. I asked my brother if he had any free time next weekend, and of course he gave me the runaround. They’re going away, he’s got to work, yadda yadda yadda. Completely unaware of how desperate I am to sit them down and tell them of the last nearly two years. Of the heartbreak we’ve been through, the struggle. And of the good, of our little LB.

This is what terrifies me. How desperate I feel in wanting to make this real. In wanting to make this different.

I got a gift certificate from The Paper Store for my birthday, and since we’re on a money crunch, I used it to buy a card and a gift for my brother’s girl (and some other things). I made it to the checkout and commented to J that it kind of stunk that I was using my birthday gift certificate on someone else and not even anything for me! He told me to go pick something out…so I picked out a onesie. Green, with the Red Sox logo on it. Similar to the jersey I got for myself for the infamous Saint Patty’s Day/birthday party where I found out about my friend’s close-to-mine pregnancy. LB is due March 11th, which means s/he could be around for that holiday. If s/he is, I’ll be dressing him or her in that onesie.

And what a difference a year will make.

So if you came into this post thinking I was filled with dread…you’re wrong. I’m filled with hope. Which is possibly more terrifying than dread. Because I am going to lose that much more of myself if tomorrow goes poorly.

I’m going to try my best to sleep tonight. I unfortunately need to wake up early so I can work from home a few hours, as my appointment is at 10:00AM. There’s no point in waking J to drive me to work for 2 hours, just to pick me up and bring me to my appointment, just to drive me back to work, and then pick me up another four hours later. So I am hoping to keep busy with work, as I have things I need to get done.

So I leave you with this: my sweet little Bug, I hope you can hear me in there. I want you to know how much I love you. I want you to know how badly I don’t want you to leave me. I hope you’re safe and thriving in there. We can’t wait for you to be with us, but we can wait. I want you to know that. We can wait another six months for you. We’ve waited this long for you already. So you stay in there as long as you need, and we’ll be here. I love you. Don’t leave me.

Afraid to Say It, But Could Things Be Turning Around?

Okay, so…honestly, I meant to write a much longer post. But of course, I had a doctor’s appointment after work, and I came home to relax, and now my husband is home (for good this time!) and I want to spend time with him. Celebrating my 27th birthday.

And celebrating the fact that the owners of our dream house…accepted our (second) offer.

Yes, you read that right. The house I just spoke of Monday…the house whose owners rejected our offer because it was too low. The house I didn’t think we would get, and I was devastated.

Well, if everything goes accordingly, that house will be ours on October 17th.

Explanation to come later! Just wanted to share this with you because…well, I mean, it’s kind of obvious, right?!

😀

“Tell me how’s the way to be, tell me how’s the way to go, tell me all that I should know.”

Where I am: 10w7d
Medications: Crinone
Symptoms: tired, sore boobs, nausea, slow digestion, food/smell hypersensitivity and aversions, congestion, constipation, occasional dizziness, dull cramps and sharp twangs


The birthday cake I baked for myself last night. :P

The birthday cake I baked for myself last night. 😛

This morning, as of 4:12AM, I turned 27…and I feel old.

Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know, 27 is young. And when I move on to tell you that I intended to be a mother before I turned 27, many of you (older than me) may tell me that I’m still young. I still have time. And that may be true. And I may not understand what it’s like to be 30, 35, 37, and still not have any living babies.

But I had a plan. When I was growing up, it was to have my first baby at 21 (like my mother). When I grew up and realized I might want to have a career, the age changed to 23-25. When my husband and I got engaged, it changed to 25ish (after our marriage). In May 2012, at age 24, I got married. I turned 25 that year. The following January, we started TTC.

I thought I’d have a baby before 26. Then, before 27.

Well, 27 is here. I’m still not a mother…not in the way I intended. And yeah, I may be pregnant now, but I”m 5 days shy of my NT scan. And still a few weeks shy of the second trimester. I’m hardly home free, yet.

There’s just something about RPL/IF that changes the way you see birthdays. Instead of celebrating, it’s “Oh great. Another failed year. Still not a mom.” It just sucks.

What my messy, albeit decorated, cube looked like when I came in this morning.

What my messy, albeit decorated, cube looked like when I came in this morning.

And don’t get me wrong…I’m not lamenting this day. I baked myself a cake yesterday (hubby doesn’t come home until tonight) and my coworkers have made me feel quite good about myself. I have a Thai lunch date with my mom and my “work mom” this afternoon, so that’ll be nice. And who knows what surprises my husband will have when he gets home. Hopefully nothing extravagant (honestly) since we are in a money crunch right now.

I’m honestly having a good day. I’m just anxious. About a lot of things. I hope I get to celebrate my next birthday with a cute little bouncing 5-month-old.

In other news…like I said, 5 days and counting until the NT scan. I’ve been having dull cramps and short sharp (not too painful) pains now and again. My boobs still hurt. I still have nausea. I’m still constipated. I’m still tired all the time, and sleeping horribly, and waking up at least once in the night to pee. So as far as feeling pregnant goes, I feel pregnant. The pains down there just worry me. But I know growing pains are normal. My uterus is (should be) growing along with baby…and at the 11th week, it starts popping out of the pelvis, right? I don’t know when round ligament pain happens. But maybe it could be that.

All I know is I feel more pregnant at roughly 11w than I did with my last pregnancy. Could be because I am following it more closely…but I don’t think it is all in my head. At the very least, my body is still acting like it’s pregnant. I hope Lucky Bug is growing and thriving in there.

Back to Square One…Again

I really was going to write more today, but I’m too upset to do so.

We put an offer on a house this weekend that we love. More than the other house.

It was $20k above our maximum offer price. We offered. It’s too low. They won’t budge. We can’t budge.

So we’re shit outta luck, once again. Back to the drawing board.

I’ll write more about this later, but I’m getting so tired of this. We’ve seen at least 20, if not 30 houses. I knew buying a house wasn’t easy, but I didn’t realize it would be this hard. I thought just finding the perfect one was the hard part. I didn’t realize actually getting them to sell it to you for your asking price or being chosen over someone else was also difficult.

The stress is getting to me. My husband is gone again for three days. Less than two weeks until I start my new job, less than three weeks before I go back to school. I’m freaking out. But I feel like I say this shit at least once a week. I’m on repeat, over and over.

So I’ll shut up now. I’ll update another day, when I’m not feeling so bitchy and whoremonal. Cripes.

😦