Where I am: 8w2d
Symptoms: tired, sore boobs, nausea, slow digestion, food (and smell) aversions, congestion, headaches—and hemorrhoids?!
It was 174bpm, to be exact.
Friday morning, we woke up early and drove into the city to the same place I went to on that unfortunate Christmas Eve. As we walked in the entrance and the long, incredibly long entryway (it’s a strangely long building) to the elevators past registration, I could see the events of seven months ago clear as day.
I remembered walking in, nervous. I remembered the scan, which I’ve already told you all about. But then there was the exit. Walking through the waiting room full of pregnant women, to the elevators, down to the first floor, down that long entryway, through the streets to the train station. Crying, the whole time—me, a person who’d rather die than cry in public.
I remembered the devastation, the heavy emptiness in my belly, the disbelief. The grief.
But this day…this day was different.
We got to the waiting room and they sent us right in. My hands shook as I removed my leg brace, then my jeans, then my underwear. We weren’t in the same scan room as before, thankfully. Like the practice by my apartment, this one had a scan room specifically for those receiving fertility treatment. There was just the one monitor—no TV screen mounted on the wall to possibly display the horrible truth.
The technician told me she would take the measurements all for herself first, before showing me anything. With a tremor in my voice, I said “Okay,” and my husband gently brushed my hair with one hand and squeezed my hand with the other. All the lights but one had been shut off, all but one soft light directly over my head. I stared at it and tried to control my breathing, but I felt my whole body shaking. Tears rolled down my cheeks involuntarily as I mentally prepared myself for what I felt was the inevitable.
And then, probably because she saw I was about to fall to pieces right there, the technician turned the monitor towards me. She pointed to the bright spot and said, “See there? That’s your baby’s heart. It’s beating furiously, honey. Okay?”
I let my breath out, and more tears came, and as she turned the monitor back so she could do her thing, I whispered “Okay” and looked up in my husband’s eyes. “Okay.”
Lucky Bug is measuring ahead (according to estimated ovulation, anyway) a few days. At 7w7d, Bug measured 8w2d and had a heartbeat of 174. It’s brain is forming—the technician pointed out the dark shadow where it would be in a few weeks. We also saw what was left of the yolk sac, the cord, and the very thin and almost indiscernible amniotic sac. And we saw that heart. That beautiful, strong heart beating away.
My husband surprised me with two presents: a Swarovski ladybug, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. This he gave to me in the car on the way to the appointment. He then surprised me with a necklace and earrings set: simple, small Swarovski earrings to match a simple, small necklace: a flower, with a tiny ladybug perched on it. This he gave to me in the exam room while we waited in between the ultrasound and the consultation with my RE. I cried both times.
I cried a lot that day, actually.
My RE is confident this pregnancy is going to progress normally. In his words, “We’ve done everything we can to fix what needed fixing. The polyps, the hyperprolactinemia, your hypothyroidism…you have done all you can.”
Speaking of which, my TSH is at an astoundingly perfect 2.42, a level it has never ever been before. I take this as a good sign, and I hope it stays near this level for the rest of this trimester.
I asked my RE about two things: an additional ultrasound between now and 12 weeks (for obvious reasons), and an at-home Doppler.
Though I should have fully graduated to the regular OB team this week, my request for another ultrasound will delay that two more weeks…somewhat. My RE was kind enough to offer me one final check at 10w on August 14th, so I will graduate and say goodbye then. I still have my OB intake appointment this Thursday, though. And after the next ultrasound, it’ll only be another two weeks until the NT scan.
As for the Doppler, well, my RE advised against it. He said it would drive me crazy. He once again reassured me that my problems seemed very 1st trimester-influential, and that once I pass 13w I will be good to go. I haven’t made a decision yet whether I will get one or not, but I appreciated his input.
So there you have it. I’m officially in the “Red Zone.” About five weeks and I’ll be past it. In that time, I have two scans and a regular OB appointment. I think I’ll make it, if everything goes well.
And of course there’s more to that day. And the weekend. Highs and lows. But that’s for the public post.
I’ll leave you with this: I love this baby more and more every day. It’ll take a lot of strength for me to make it in one piece to the next ultrasound, and I’m sure I’ll be just as ready to fall apart then as I was a few days ago. But I love this baby. I want it to stay with me. With every scan I pass with flying colors, I feel relief for a few moments, and then dread as I realize I’m becoming more and more attached. I am attached. I love…this…baby.
Hang around, Lucky Bug. Mommy and Daddy want you to stay. ❤