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

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.

Baby Steps Toward the Big Steps

Where I am: 10w2d
Medications: Crinone
Symptoms: tired, sore boobs, nausea, slow digestion, food/smell hypersensitivity and aversions, congestion, constipation


Yesterday was quite the big day, wouldn’t you agree?

Of course, the rest of the day, I kept having short sharp pains. Dull cramps, too. I have to keep reminding myself…I am still taking Crinone, and also the baby is growing (therefore so is my uterus). I have to keep reminding myself that…this has all been going on for the last few weeks. Nothing to be nervous about. Still no spotting. *knocks on wood* No serious pains that take my breath away. I’m good.

Yesterday, when I got home, I scanned all my ultrasound photos onto my MacBook. Then I spent the better half of a few hours creating a new page for this blog: a Lucky Bug Timeline, of sorts. This was a big step for me. Creating a page for this baby is a step toward accepting that this could go all the way. That I could really have a take-home baby early next spring.

Anyway, back to this new page…this timeline for LB. I really wanted someplace that people, new followers or old friends, could go to and get a quick look-see at how this whole pregnancy came to be. I linked to relevant posts for further reference. You see, the J+S=TTC page (formerly Our Story So Far) just didn’t seem to do the pregnancy enough justice. Besides, the very top of that page holds the last living photograph I received of Baby Bean. And while I don’t want LB’s progress to be overshadowed by that photograph, I also didn’t want to take it down.

Or, I’m just crazy and overly sentimental and way overthinking this whole blog concept. It’s possible. I’m a bit OCD sometimes.

Whatever. So, I got a new page. Check it out.

Back to the whole “big steps” thing I mentioned a few paragraphs ago. One of my apps (because I actually looked at them yesterday, post-appointment) is telling me to start a registry.

WHOA.

This is a major conflict of interest for me…because only a week and a half ago, my cousin was visiting me and I went on Target Baby and just started looking around and my fingers were just itching to start a registry! But I felt it was too soon. So I didn’t.

But I am trying to remember that jinxes aren’t real. Because…they aren’t. (Right? Right.) But seriously, I don’t know…is it too early? I honestly don’t feel sure.

I know I want to, although not knowing the baby’s sex may or may not impact what I choose. I can choose the basics, though. Diapers. Breast-feeding pump (is that appropriate to put on a registry? hmmm). Gender-neutral…things.

Ugh. I just know I want to start making this feel real, already.

Like maternity clothes. I’ve got a good little selection in a bag in my closet. Two pairs of jeans with belly bands that I bought weeks before my last miscarriage, and 5-6 tops my parents bought for me for Christmas (again…before the miscarriage). My cousin and I love to shop together and I daydream about maternity clothes shopping with her all the time.

So…lots of big steps I’m considering, with the key word there being the last. I guess I’ll be taking baby steps toward the big steps.

My husband comes home tonight. I can’t wait to show him the ultrasound photos. He’s seen the video, though…about a million times. I was in tears last night talking about it with him. To hear him so excited, and that he knew it would be okay, and that he loves me so much. That last one, I hear it all the time. He tells me he loves me multiple times a day. That’s just how we are with each other. Always saying it. But when he was saying it last night…and knowing that when he said  “I love you” that he meant “I love you, my wife pregnant with our little baby,” it just filled me with a new kind of giddy. Similar to how I felt when he first told me he loved me…but different, still.

I think I’m actually starting to let myself hope. I’m slowly letting my guard down, slowly opening my heart to the possibility of having a baby. It’s overwhelming. I don’t know what to do with these feelings.

You know, other than crying. 🙂

One more thing before I go (this post is a fucking mess, I’m sorry): I looked into our insurance, and they will only cover the MaterniT21 test for a woman under 35 if she either has trisomy in the family or she had an abnormal result from another test (e.g. an NT scan). With that said, my husband and I decided we weren’t willing to pay out of pocket for it unless it was necessary (although being able to learn the sex sooner was appealing, but we can wait another 8 weeks for that). So, I booked the NT scan yesterday afternoon.

Monday, August 25th = NT scan (at 11w5d).
Friday, August 29th = Doppler check with CNM (at 12w2d).

Big freakin’ week.

Fair warning: the melancholy will probably come full force right before that NT scan. You all know my history, you know why I’ll be shitting my pants with terror. But the good thing is that it’s only 10 days away. Barely over a week. Nothing like last pregnancy’s four-week wait of doom.

Okay. I got all my thoughts out. I feel better. Sorry for the word-vomit, I didn’t mean to dump this all in one discombobulated post. Whoops.

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.

Shut Up, Stupid Pregnancy Apps

Where I am: 9w7d
Medications: Crinone
Symptoms: tired, sore boobs, nausea, slow digestion, food/smell hypersensitivity and aversions, congestion, constipation


Today, most of my pregnancy apps (I honestly have too many—there isn’t just one that I like entirely) were sending me push notifications announcing the start of my tenth week (some apps/docs would consider 9w7d as 10w0d…so confusing). “Congratulations, you’re ten weeks! Check in to see what baby is up to now and how big s/he is!”

Um, no thanks. I don’t want to know.

O_o

Okay, I know that sounds harsh. And maybe a bit terrible. But I can’t help it. The absolute worst thing about not knowing Baby Bean was gone the last four weeks I was pregnant was that the entire time, I was reading my baby books and reading my BabyBump app daily tips and weekly info like the baby was still growing. I was learning all the things a baby would be doing, and look like, at 10…11…12 weeks.

Only, s/he wasn’t. Bean measured 9w at our NT scan at a little over 12w. All of those things I was imagining weren’t real. They were in my head.

(‘Scuse me one moment… fuck you, RPL PTSD. Fuck you. Okay, I’m back.)

So…tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will look. If I can, if it makes sense for me to look.

Which…if I was being optimistic, I would say, it will make sense. And I’m trying to be optimistic.

I am.

It’s just…hard.

This is uncharted territory. A good ultrasound tomorrow would officially document the farthest I’ve ever been with a pregnancy. I mean…10w just doesn’t seem real right now. I keep closing my eyes and trying to remember the sound of the little Bug’s heart beating on that Doppler only a week ago. A heartbeat, right on the cusp of the Red Zone. Right around the time it all went wrong last time. I try to imagine that sound, inside my tummy, when I can. Visualize the baby getting bigger.

But it’s harder than it looks. It really, really is. As I sit here typing this, my hands are shaking and my heart is racing. My husband just started texting me for the first time today (we’ve both been quite busy) and I told him how nervous I am and he said, “It is going to be all good.” I so hope he is right. I wish he would be by my side tomorrow. Good or bad. Good because I want him to see in person how Lucky Bug has grown, and bad because I need him there.

My mom will be there, but it won’t be the same.

It’s funny…I haven’t been sleeping well the last week or so. I toss and turn a lot. It could be the pregnancy…it could be something else. I was talking with my mom about it today, about how I was up late…and then slept restlessly…and she asked me if there was something wrong or something bothering me. I was quick to say no, but I remembered tomorrow and told her I was just nervous about tomorrow. Preparing for the worst.

She told me not to think like that. I sighed.

It could be everything else, too. The lack of two cars. The rehabilitation I still have pending on my leg. The absolutely-final-can’t-turn-back-now deadline on our lease just tick, tick, ticking away. The lack of a house. The school year starting in less than four weeks. My new job, starting in less than three weeks. This pregnancy. Everything.

No wonder I’m not sleeping. I’m losing my damn mind.

I almost cried today in my cube, randomly, out of the blue, for no reason. I just got anxious and got that, “What if it is all over tomorrow?” terror squeezing the life out of me, and I almost lost it. Earlier this week, I tweeted something along the lines of, “Sometimes I can’t breathe because I think, if this all ends, I don’t know if I’ll come back from it this time.”

I truly feel that way sometimes. I feel so close to this baby now that I can’t imagine going back. I feel like I’m walking on thin ice. I feel like the further I go, out into the middle of the pond, the more likely it is that I’ll fall through. And I wonder if I’ll have the strength to pull myself out.

You’re in the middle of treatments, or in the middle of trying again, and you think you have the strength to get through. You tell yourself, “Even if I have another loss, I still need to try. I want a baby that badly, that I’ll keep trying.” But when you’re in it? When you’re pregnant, and every week that passes brings a new milestone that makes you feel that much more connected? You start to lose your fucking shit, man. You start to wonder if you really can take another loss. You start to wonder if after the last ten weeks, you can really say goodbye to another baby.

I don’t know if I can.

Shit. I feel like a terrible person writing this. It just dawned on me. If I go in there tomorrow and Lucky Bug is perfectly fine…I’ll feel terrible. I wish I could be positive. I’m scared my negativity will jinx me. Or affect the health of the pregnancy.

Why can’t I be more positive?

This has clearly been a stream-of-consciousness post. I hope you’re enjoying this little trip inside my brain. It’s a mess, ain’t it? Jesus.

Okay. About twelve hours to go. (I probably won’t sleep well.) My ultrasound is at 9:30AM (EST) with the follow-up and (hopefully) graduation appointment with my RE immediately afterwards.

I am going to go tomorrow wearing my lucky ladybug necklace and bringing my little mascot with me. I don’t care if it’s stupid. I can’t have my husband, so I’ll take what he gave me as good luck charms instead.

Tomorrow, I am hoping to see a nearly baby-like-looking baby in my tummy. I’m hoping to hear a strong heartbeat. I am going to take deep breaths, and stay calm, and focus on sending all the good vibes to this sweet little one that I can.

Please…please let my hopes be reality this time. Please. Please, please, please…

The Ever-So-Fun RPL Struggle: Trying Not to Overthink Everything

Where I am: 8w5d
Medications: Crinone
Symptoms: tired, sore boobs, nausea, slow digestion, food/smell hypersensitivity and aversions, congestion, friggin’ hemorrhoids, constipation, are you grossed out yet?


Goodness, I am trying. I really am. But shit, I am overthinking everything in the world.

Like the cramps I had this morning. No bleeding *knocks feverishly on wood* and the cramps aren’t even painful. But I feel it, and I check the calendar on my app to confirm how far along I am (where I am based on ovulation and how far along Lucky Bug is measuring are different so I occasionally forget or get confused), and terror floods like ice-water right through my heart. The impending doom that is associated with feeling like it’s all over smacks me in the face.

It sucks.

(Also, the cramps are/were probably growing pains. Duh. *sigh*)

With every scan, there’s momentary elation. Relief. Happiness. But it doesn’t take long for the dread and fear to creep back in. Honestly, I’m sick of it. But I guess I have to take it as it comes. RPL was the hand I was dealt. I hope this makes me a stronger person in the end. I hope it makes me a stronger mother.

Some things I forgot to mention last time I posted: Crinone and baby aspirin is over and done with as of August 31st. I’ll be 12w3d on September 1st (which hopefully means Bug will be measuring somewhere between there and 12w5d-ish). That’s something to be celebrated! When I think of the fact that I’m barely 9w, the second trimester seems so far away. But when I think of the fact that I’ll be 12w before the end of the month, it doesn’t seem so far. It actually seems alarmingly close.

I feel like with my first two pregnancies, the beginning weeks dragged. I was alone for the first one, and I insisted on waiting several weeks between the first ultrasound and when I actually had the D&E because I was afraid they could be wrong. So that would explain the drag there. And then, with Baby Bean, when I thought I was 8w along, I was actually only 6w along. And then I went four weeks between ultrasounds before the D&E. So I started out moving backwards, and then had so much wait time at the end there. I also wasn’t working, and was only going to school, so I had very little to distract me or help the days fly by.

But with this pregnancy…yeah, sure, the two-week wait time between scans has felt long. But overall, time is passing quickly. I have so much going on, from my leg to house-hunting every weekend to working every week, that the days in bulk seem to go by fast with little pockets of minute-by-minute or hour-by-hour drags here and there. And it excites me that Bug has been measuring ahead consistently since the first scan, so maybe eventually they will change how far along I am on paper and change my due date and I can “time travel” through a couple of days at some point.

Anyway…only 8 days until my scan. I’ll be 9w6d at that point, so hopefully Bug will be measuring consistently ahead a little bit at 10w1d. My husband will still be in training, so my mom will be taking me. I was just discussing it with one of my RPL friends and as I was telling her how panic- and fear-inducing this scan is going to be, I suddenly felt this urge to call my husband and beg him to get permission from his commander to take the morning off to be with me. The thought of facing another loss without him beside me, without him to hold me, is almost more than I can bear. I love my mom, but I don’t think it’ll be the same. I need him.

But I can’t do that. He already has days to make up before the end of the fiscal year, which is fast-approaching, due to the weekend after the accident and the day he took off for the last scan. His promotion is fresh, and I don’t want him constantly leaving duty because of me. So instead, I’m going to try to be strong, and I won’t let him know how absolutely dead-petrified I am, and I’m going to think positive.

Thinking positive means the only sadness that day will be that his second-hand viewing of the ultrasound will have to suffice. (I’m going to have my mom videotape it on my phone.)

OB intake appointment is tomorrow. I’ll post an update in the afternoon to let you know how that goes. I had a Papsmear with my last pregnancy sometime in November, so I wonder if she will do another. I did have bacterial vaginosis at my last one (fancy word for “too much bad bacteria in your vajayjay”) so I feel like at least a pelvic is in order, and probably a swab. I’ve also been subtle about it by only putting it under the symptoms part of these posts, but I’m also having another issue “down there” that she will probably want to investigate, just to make sure it isn’t out of control. I’m just dreading the smear because there’s a potential for spotting.

I don’t care if she warns me ahead of time. I’ve had spotting before between 5-8w with both miscarriages. I haven’t had it yet with this pregnancy and I’m nearly 9w. I will flip a lid if I start spotting, “normal and expected” or not. Ugh.

I have a public post coming up that I’m working on, but I doubt I’ll have another one tomorrow. So I will plan for the public post to have links to this and tomorrow’s post-intake protected post. So check back on the public post tomorrow for the new link. It will be added in there once the new post is up and running.

And that’s all, folks. I’m glad I’ve been blogging a little more consistently. I find it’s the hardest to do so right before a scan, as the nerves and anxiety and melancholy get the best of me and I don’t have the focus or energy to write. So fear not if, next week, I get quiet. I’ll just be withdrawing again, fearful of bad news and just trying to will the days to fly by so I can get to scan day.

“A Perfect Little Heartbeat”

Where I am: 8w2d
Medications: Crinone
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.

photo 1

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.

photo 2

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. ❤

Too Much

Where I am: 7w4d
Medications: Crinone
Symptoms: tired, sore boobs, nausea, slow digestion, food (and smell) aversions, congestion, headaches


I woke up this morning and felt like the nausea was gone. Granted, I barely ate anything yesterday because I felt so sick, and then barely ate anything today until I came home and had a huge dinner. I actually just stuffed my face, regardless of the “small meals” rule, because I want to pretty much induce the nausea.

How fucked up is that?

My boobs still hurt. I guess I can take comfort in that. And I’ve been congested the last few days.

I overdid it so bad this weekend. Physically, mentally, emotionally…I was dead by Sunday afternoon. My arm and good leg muscles ached. I was exhausted. On Monday, I had a migraine and the little food I ate (fruit, some bites of chocolate, ice cream, chips and dip…I know, wicked healthy, right?) gave me the shakes. I got in bed before 8:00PM, and fell asleep by 9:00PM. I slept nearly twelve hours last night. That alone was a testament to how done my body was with me.

The panic and paranoia has set in. I feel like it’s all going to be over on Friday. Nothing anyone tells me will make me feel otherwise. I just feel this dread, from head to toe. I find myself wondering what it’ll be like when I’m back on the other side, again. With three losses under my belt. Back to square one. Unable to face my family ever again during the holidays as I reach two years since I told all of them we would be trying to have kids.

And I fucking hate it. Because should this pregnancy miraculously continue, I think I’ll feel guilty about how little I enjoyed these first twelve weeks.

I’m overwhelmed by everything. Not just this pregnancy. But everything. I overestimated how much I thought I could handle.

I’m sorry I haven’t been commenting on your blogs, or responding to tweets. I’m definitely withdrawing, which is usually what I do before I slip into depression. I’m trying to be there for you guys, and know I have been reading as many of your tweets and all of your  blogs I can manage. I just don’t have the energy or concentration in me to comment. I know that makes me a shit friend. I won’t be offended if you guys return the favor. I don’t expect much attention if I’m not giving it.

But know that I’m thinking of you all. Those of you starting or in the middle of new cycles, some of you who are very freshly pregnant and stuck in the realm of uncertainty, those of you who are progressing with your pregnancies and have reached milestones such as viability or the anatomy scan or are almost due. And those of you who’ve received heartbreaking BFNs lately. And those who have received BFPs only to be devastated by a chemical pregnancy. I’ve been following all of you. I’m thinking of all of you.

Steady, Freddy…

Where I am: 6w5d
Medications: Crinone
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.

YIKES.