Big Update on the Bug

Where I am: 12w7d
Medications: just the basics!
Symptoms: still tired, still sore boobs, still a little bit of nausea, still slow digestion, still food/smell hypersensitivity and aversions, still congestion, still constipation, and *new* round ligament pain!


Sorry I haven’t checked in for a while! I assure you, Bug is fine. As far as I know (Friday’s OB MD appointment will reassure me of that).

Also, unless she’s lying to my face, brother’s girlfriend isn’t pregnant. PHEW!

So let me update you on a few things… Continue reading

August 14th, 2014: Documented As the Farthest I’ve Ever Been

Where I am: 10w1d
Medications: Crinone
Symptoms: tired, sore boobs, nausea, slow digestion, food/smell hypersensitivity and aversions, congestion, constipation


Oh…my…goodness.

Lucky Bug is totally hanging in there. Measuring between 10w1d and 10w2d, with a strong heartbeat of 178.

Today makes it official: this pregnancy, my third, is the farthest I have ever been.

Holy shitballs.

The day started off rough. I woke up early to a text from my dad saying my mom was not going to work today. Not giving me a ride to and from work. Not giving me a ride to and from my appointment. So I called him still half-asleep and told him I might as well not bother going in until after the appointment since it would be a waste of time for him. He told me he would drive me today, wherever I needed to go.

So I got up, and since I was up, I took a shower. I mosied around getting dressed. Put on my “Lucky Bug” jewelry for good luck, and tucked the little mascot in my pocket. I had a glass of orange juice and an ice cream sandwich (don’t judge). I then began to chug water because, at 10w, the chances of her doing an abdominal were higher than not. My father came to get me and off we went.

I cycled between going numb and panicking. They took us late, which is unusual. I spent the better part of fifteen minutes in the waiting room, feet and hands shaking, anxiously keeping my Twitter friends updated on the status of my insanity. The same tech as always, Fran, took us in. I had a full bladder, and she intended to do an abdominal first, but she wanted my bladder empty just in case. I told her how nervous I was, and she knew to check immediately to make sure LB was okay in there. It took maybe three seconds from the moment she turned on the monitor before she said “It’s okay. It’s okay.” And I let out a deep breath as she checked my ovaries and conducted her measurements.

My dad was in the chair beside me, and I could hear him laughing and when Fran asked if he saw this, and saw that, he would say yes, and I could hear the emotion in his voice. I couldn’t look. I knew he was crying. I knew if I looked, I’d cry more. My eyes were glued to the screen anyway while I watched little LB wriggle around.

The baby was active. Pumping his or her little fists and legs all over the place. I asked Fran if I could take some quick video for J, because he was away, and she said even though it was against the rules…she would allow it just this once. I love her.

Once she had taken all her measurements and confirmed LB was measuring right on time, and the heartbeat was strong as ever, she told me to video quick as she got a perfect view and the baby was moving. I turned on my iPhone camera and almost instantly, like the baby knew, s/he started waving. Once again, I was crying. Silently…not sobbing. Little tears. But tears nonetheless. I got about 30secs of good movement and waving and then turned it off, telling Fran I was good, just grateful for the chance to video at all.

I didn’t need a transvaginal…she got everything she needed from the outside. She congratulated me, and then almost impulsively hugged me tight, and told me everything was looking really good. And then I was done!

I waited another 20mins to see the RE, for all of maybe three minutes. He went over what I had discussed with the endocrinologist (forgot to tell you guys about that, more on it later) and told me that not only does everything look great, but since I’ve passed the point of my last miscarriage, the chances of this pregnancy proceeding look better than ever. He shook my hand, wished me luck, and told me he looks forward to seeing me around the office sporting a nice healthy bump in the coming months.

While we waited, I texted J and sent him the video. He didn’t respond for a while (probably busy), but when he did, he just couldn’t stop saying he loved me. I asked if he watched the video, if he was happy, if he saw the baby waving for him, and he just said yes and so happy and he loved me so much. I can’t wait to talk to him tonight. I’m so glad he was at least able to see what I saw today.

So, my dearest friends, my companions, my supporters, that’s that. I am 10w today. I am 1/4th of the way through this pregnancy. My chances get better every day. LB is hanging on, s/he is certainly a fighter. I am in awe. I am so in love. I am still so terrified, and I’m sure the anxiety will continue to rise exponentially before every appointment…but for now, I’m blissfully happy. I wish I could feel this way all the time.

Because I Can’t Keep Quiet At All

I can’t. I have to wait at least another day while the proper people are informed and blah blah frickin’ blah.

This is not even TTC-related, but I am so anxious to get it out there and write about it and I can’t on my public blog and I’m losing my mind.

I got the job. At my work. The permanent, full-time editorial position.

GUYS I GOT THE FRIGGIN’ JOB. I FINALLY HAVE A JOB IN MY FIELD.

I can’t even…

I can’t. Not even a little.

Aside from the fact that I’ve been waiting four whole years for a job in my field, aside from that…this job…

…okay, this is going to go TTC-related. This job means so many things. It means I have, for the first time in over a year, a full-time permanent job. For the first time in forever, I have a job in my field.

I have a normal paycheck. Not that we were struggling before, but the fertility stuff was eventually going to start making things really difficult. Treatments aside, possible ER visits or procedures or prenatal care…the money was going to start dwindling somewhere. And our precious tiny “baby fund,” compiled of all the money we got from our wedding over two years ago now, was going to have to be touched. And then the money we’d want to eventually spend on our newborn baby would start to disappear.

Same with the mortgage. And everything else that comes with buying a house. Sure, we have our down payment set aside (and that came to us only out of tragedy) but there’ll be expenses. New appliances. Painting. Furniture. Higher bills. Etc, etc.

And we went into this year kind of saying, “Well, screw it. Let’s close our eyes and hope for the best.” And we did. And I applied to this job with my eyes closed, my breath held, and I got it.

Were not millionaires now. My new salary, while AMAZING considering I’m used to living off of a meager near-minimum wage thanks to over ten years in retail, doesn’t mean we can afford a giant house. Or even a house bigger than what we planned on anyway, in fact. It doesn’t mean we can do a zillion medicated cycles or IUIs or IVF treatments, or adopt a baby as easy as 1-2-3.

But this job…it means so much. It means I can breathe a little easier. It means if we run into a speed bump with buying our house, we won’t sail over the median and crash head-on into a Mack truck. We might get into a little fender-bender, but we’ll be okay. We’ll be able to drive home safe.

And it means benefits. It means more health insurance. It means maybe infertility still won’t be covered, but eventually being doubly-covered for prenatal care might make up for the dent that treatments will put us in. It means maternity leave.

I’m sorry, I know I’m rambling. But I smile-cried the whole way home today. I feel like things have been going so wrong, for so long. I needed this job, just like I need us to buy a house. I am so tired of things being taken away from me, from me and J. I don’t know what the hell is in store for us regarding TTC, but at least I know it’s not infecting every other damn part of my life. I’m not being followed by the dark cloud I thought was haunting every waking moment. I feel like our life’s felt stagnant for years as I’ve navigated the publishing world and struggled to find my footing and a job, suffered miserable jobs in retail where I was overworked and underappreciated, and as we continued to put everything in our lives on hold while we TTC. I almost didn’t go to grad school because of the miscarriage. I almost didn’t take the job I have now because of grad school. We almost didn’t start seriously thinking about a house because of two miscarriages and the realization that we needed medical help.

Well screw you, infertility and recurrent miscarriage. We’re moving on without you.

I know I play tough on here but I have been fighting a dark place ever since December. And I myself didn’t realize until I drove home how this job offer really affected me. I didn’t realize I was holding out for it so much.

Okay. I feel better now. Oh except for one more thing.

Hey future baby. I hope wherever you are, you’re seeing and hearing this right now. Mommy’s got a good job, so she can buy you the things you need. Mommy and Daddy are going to buy a house for all of us, too, where you’ll have your own room, and a backyard to play in. So you see? We’re ready for you now. More ready than we’ve ever been. So you can come home, now. Everything will be here for you when you arrive. ❤