Early Pregnancy Hysteria

So, I did blog back at the beginning of the pregnancy, but I did not post.  I wasn't ready to tell the world.  Then once I was ready, I realized that I was so anxious and worried that my posts were just not going to be entertaining at all.  So I stopped for awhile.

I feel like I am finally relaxed enough to write like my old self.  Roo is doing well, kicking and punching me at the same time, so I know baby is happy.

Below is what I had saved.  It's maybe one months worth, before I had to step away from writing for fear of just spinning my wheels on the same stuff.

BEHOLD, APRIL!

4/11/2011

Those Two Lines.

Excited, happy, terrified.  One of those things does not belong.

For most pregnant women, those two lines mean that you are going to have a baby—the best thing in the world.  You are excited, happy, and can’t wait to start your journey towards becoming a mother.  For a few of us who have suffered pregnancy losses, those two lines can stir other emotions.  Mixed in with the excitement and happiness is a little relief, lots of terror, and a healthy dose of fear.  You know that those two lines do no promise you that a baby will pop out in 9 months.  YOU KNOW.

A lot of people’s reaction to that is probably “Oh, you just need to THINK positive, and everything will be fine!” but I know all too well that positive thinking does not keep a baby in your belly.  For most women, the risks or chances of something going wrong are just a fleeting thought in the doctor’s office when they give you the mandatory run-down of all the ways this could go wrong.  Then you forget them and go on with your happy, healthy pregnancy.  When you’ve been through it, though, YOU KNOW.  YOU KNOW that a baby got stuck in your tubes, and could very well be stuck in the other one now.  YOU KNOW that nothing guarantees that this one will be a success and that in 9-10 months you will hold your child.  And YOU KNOW that it can happen to you.  Because it did.

I have never been so happy and so scared in my life.  The first time, I never considered that I would not be holding a baby in August.  Then my life changed.  As we struggled to conceive again, I thought that this would help me get past the pain of losing the first one.  And in my heart, it has.  But my head keeps reminding me that ectopic pregnancies are more likely once you’ve had one.  And that almost half of all women will have a miscarriage sometime in their life.  There are no rules that say “One and Done;” it could happen to me again just as much as it could happen to someone who has never suffered a miscarriage. 

How do you deal with those competing emotions?  How do you reconcile your belief in God’s Plan, and that you will have a baby when he means for you to, with the terror of what can happen?  Shouldn’t I not be scared because He will take care of me regardless?  To be honest, if I thought losing the first pregnancy was faith-shaking, I am in for a wild ride with the second one.  I am afraid to get my pregnancy books out of storage, I am afraid to start planning again, and I am afraid to believe that I will have a baby in December.

Despite all this, I AM hopeful—reserved, but hopeful.  I feel better than I did last time, no cramps hinting at a tragedy to come, my HcG levels were good yesterday (rechecking tomorrow), and I feel some symptoms, which I did not last time.  If I can just get past the first hurdle—ultrasound to make sure baby is in the right place—I feel I will be able to breathe a little easier.  Then we’ll take one day as it comes.

Oh, and let’s not pretend like I don’t spend 10 hours a day on Google looking up my HcG levels, development, symptoms, etc.  I might be terrified out of my mind, but I am still me and can’t let things be—I have to know what every little tic might be!

4/15/11

I’ve been pregnant for about 10 minutes and I’ve already spent about 485 hours online in baby forums, Mayo Clinic, and WebMD.  Every little cramp or twinge freaks me out.  This is going to be a long nine months.  Don’t worry, I’m mostly kidding.  And most of the cramps turn out to be gas.  Which is good news in this scenario.  Not good news for Kurt, but good news for me.

My “numbers” are good, though.  According to the Doc.  Not sure what numbers these are, maybe the lotto?  That’d make this whole baby thing a lot easier to afford. 

4/19/2011

How the bathroom becomes the most terrifying room in the house

When you suffer a pregnancy loss, the next pregnancy instantly sends you in the psycho paranoid mode.  You undulate back and forth for sheer excitement to sheer terror.  Every little twinge or cramp sends you off you rocker with worry and concern.  Trips to the bathroom become a nightmare.

When you’ve suffered a loss, you fear the bathroom.  That is where you likely got your first indication that the pregnancy was ending.  You cramped and went to the bathroom, only to discover blood.  I know that for many pregnancies, a little bit of spotting is perfectly okay.  And just because you are spotting this time does NOT mean you are miscarrying again.  But that does not stop you from running to the nearest bathroom any time you feel the slightest trickle.  You go, wipe, and inspect for the tiniest indication of trouble.  If you are like me, you convince yourself that the spot in your underwear is CLEARLY tinged pink, and proceed to freak out for the next few hours, expecting at any moment to discover the beginning of the end. 

That’s why I go to the bathroom so frequently.  Not because I have to pee (which most of the time I really do), but because I am so afraid that while I was typing this, that little cramp was my baby dying, again, and I need to check and see for sure.

Pregnancy after a loss is hard.  Some people, with much more confidence and faith than I, breeze through it, not letting the previous troubles affect them.  I am not those people.  I obsess.  I freak out.  I am CONSTANTLY VILIGANT on the baby front. 

Also, a confession: I am afraid to fall in love with this baby.  I just got so horribly burned last time when I fell head over heels the moment I peed on that stick, and then got my heart ripped out just like my tube.  Maybe after I see the ultrasound.  Maybe after I feel the baby’s movements.  Maybe not until I am holding my brand new baby in my arms.  Is that normal for second-tryers? 

4/22/2011

This baby hates dairy.  Which is a problem, because I LOVE dairy.  Cheese, yogurt, milk, ice cream—YUM YUM YUM!  It’s hard to get through the day without a piece of cheese or a yogurt.  And ice cream?  REALLY?  I can smell ice cream from a block away but I can’t have it.  Sad.  So far this baby seems to be doing its job of making me completely miserable!  I am nauseas alllll day, and healthy foods repulse me.  Don’t even talk to me about vegetables, HURL.  Toast is popular with me right now, and pasta.  Maybe a steak too.  Not really balanced!  I want to eat well, I really do, but most foods just make me want to gag.  So I do what I can, eat what my body will take, and make sure to take my prenatal vitamin and calcium supplement. 

But at the end of the day, whatever it takes for this to be a healthy, happy baby if fine by me.  I’ll be sick for 9 months.  I’ll give up dairy.  Anything it takes for me to hold my baby in December.

Coming soon, the May edition.

Internet Trumps Nature Everytime

So it’s really not a huge secret that K and I both want kids.  Like right now.  So we’re doing what you need to do to have a baby.  [Sidebar: A few friends apparently think we are already pregnant and just hiding it—we aren’t].  As we’ve been doing this for a few months, I’ve noticed that each month the process is really divided into two phases: Booze and No Booze. 

Phase One: Booze

The first part of the month is getting ready for the apparently ONE day I can actually get knocked up.  Seriously, those high school girls on 16 and Pregnant make it look so easy.  But NO.  There are charts and graphs and monitoring that needs to be done to determine the right day for IT.  So I take my temperature every morning, track other symptoms, and generally just wish the weeks would fly by till our next Green Light. 

Let me back up.  Being the OCD Superfreak that I am, I am using a website to track my, um, data.  It’s called fertilityfriend.com, and it purports to help women know the best time to get pregnant.  I think it is just to let control freaks like myself have something to fret about ALL MONTH LONG.  Along with cutting edge science-y things, there is a little stoplight on the page that tells you when to hold em and when to GO.

NO BABY FOR YOU!

It’s like the little stop light at the beginning of Mario Kart.  You just check every day to see when the light turns GREEN OMG GREEN GO GO GO!  K says we should just let Nature take its course.  I say that I am perfectly fine letting Nature take its course, as long as Nature is following my map and please don’t take that ‘shortcut’ you heard about and, oh hell, just let me drive.

This phase is also peppered with my indulging in things like wine a sushi, which I can’t have once we actually starting cooking a kid.  Why do I keep saying “we” like K is gonna be a huge help in the pregnancy department.  It’s “I.”  Once I am pregs, K will be reduced to the role of go-fer when I really need Taco Bell at 3 AM.  I’ve tried to get him to practice this skill, but so far he has not been very helpful.  Apparently he is totally willing to get his pregnant wife food at any time, but the non-pregnant wife can’t even get a milkshake on a Sunday afternoon. 

The second phase (No Booze) is me freaking out every day that I might be pregnant and using aforementioned website to enter ever single ‘symptom’ that I think I am having and seeing how many points those symptoms earn me.  Like once I reach a certain number, I WIN and the prize is a baby.  There are approximately 25 different symptoms listed, and I can convince myself of almost all of them on any given day.  Although K says that I cannot count irritability because I am always irritable.  Then I punch him in the face and click YES.

This is where babies come from

At least it gives me a hobby and keeps me off the streets and out of gangs.