Category Archives: Pregnancy

Things I learned from my daughter…

I was surprised by all the things I learned from my daughter. Before she was even born. I’ve been learning all sorts of uncomfortable truths from the very beginning of this pregnancy.

Firstly? I’m not quite the open book I believe myself to be. I mean, I had been figuring that out a little bit before, but it became very apparent once things got a little rough with this pregnancy. You’d think it would be relatively easy to unburden yourself to a bunch of people you don’t know on the internet, it should be cathartic, a release. What I found instead was that I couldn’t share what I was feeling with anyone, close or far. And I couldn’t talk (or type) without these fears/concerns/anxieties/issues coming to the surface. So I just didn’t type. Or talk really. I know, totally healthy, right? I should probably get that looked at. Again.

I also learned that if I were facing a serious long-term disability I would not deal with it well. At all. I developed something called SPD – Symphosis Pubis Disorder – which is apparently now PGP – Pelvic Girdle Pain – neither of which are particularly descriptive for the grinding pain in your hips with every step you take. I was on crutches by January and in a wheelchair by April. One thing to note, if you’re ever pushing someone around in a wheelchair, understand that their face is essentially ass-height to everyone else, so please, do not push them as close as you can to the person in front of them in any given queue. Also, those little foot rests stick out farther than you think (at least in the ancient model that I had on loan) and are really good at taking said person in front of you out at the ankles, prompting them to turn and give a dirty look at the person sitting. in. the. chair. Don’t get me wrong, I’m exceedingly thankful for the free loan of the wheelchair and for those that pushed me around on those flat tires, but I am a little scarred by the experience.

Perhaps the most surprising, and still the most difficult to talk about, is that I am a bit terrified of having a girl.  I knew I was going to have a girl, from shortly after Doodle was born I had a feeling the next would be a girl.  When we got pregnant the Rocket Scientist had a dream that it was a girl, then it was confirmed by ultrasounds and true panic set in.  Things that never occurred to me with Doodle were suddenly keeping me up at night.  Body image, medical problems, numerous and various issues. Totally healthy, right?  I’ll add it to my list.

Also, I have no idea how I used to get so much done in a day.  I distinctly remember taking on projects and being able to finish them in decent time.  Even after Doodle was born.  It’s like I got pregnant again and suddenly there were like 10 less hours in the day and I needed at least 10 hours of sleep, so let’s see *carry the three…* that leaves….ya, not enough to get anything done.

So, ya.  All that added up to not going near my blog for almost 10 months.  And now?  Well, I am getting away with less sleep, there seem to be more hours in the day lately (still not convinced they add up to 24, but I live in hope), and I really am trying to work on those…issues.  Thanks so much to those of you who asked after me.  I look forward to sharing about our adventures in South Africa, my mom’s visit over Christmas, and of course the arrival of my precious ZuZu.


5 weeks

The medical profession is funny.  Even though we’ve only known about it since Sunday and even though it only happened on the 17th of last month (yes, actually I do know the exact day), if someone were to  ask me how far along I was today, I’d be able to tell them, “5 weeks!”

I’ll let that sink in for a minute.

I’m pregnant!!!

Okay, so quick preggers math for those of you who aren’t as week-obsessed:  Pregnancy is considered 40 weeks, not from the whole sperm boy meets egg girl part, but from the first date of your last cycle.  Which is weird because it’s like being pregnant for two weeks before there was even an egg girl to meet the sperm boy.  Science is just fun like that.

But back to the whole miracle thing!

The Rocket Scientist and I know that it’s not really considered good form to tell the world so soon because “something may happen”.  And we know, we do.  I have had too many friends who have lost pregnancies early on not to be painfully aware of that.  But here’s the thing.  I’m pregnant!  And that in itself is such an awesome miracle that we can’t help but shout it from the rooftops.  We did tell a few close friends and family right away (we called the parents at 4 in the morning but that’s another story) and asked them to pray for us.  We so appreciate you all for doing that and we covet your prayers still.  But we realized that, A) we’re just not that fearful, certainly much less than last time, and B) no matter what the outcome, we want everyone to know what an Awesome God we serve!  I have PCOS.  The Rocket Scientist also had some issues.  Those two things together makes Doodle a total miracle even with the medical intervention.  So to have us, here, now, pregnant, ON OUR OWN!!  is absolutely a gift from God.

We’re due June 10th, 2010.  Doodle will be a week (or so) past 26 months when he becomes the big brother we have long dreamed of him becoming.  We are very excited, joyful, freaked, ecstatic, hopeful, blessed, amazed, and generally in awe.  We can’t quite believe it at times, but there it is.  I wrote in my journal a few days after we got the news that I was pregnant with Doodle, “No matter what, no one will ever be able to take this away from me.  I am pregnant.”  And it definitely feels that way this time as well.  I am just so unbelievably blessed.  My God is a great big God and He holds us in His hands.

*Okay, we didn’t actually call our parents at 4am their time, it was like 8pm and 9pm their time, so stop shaking your finger at me.  The day I was going to take the pregnancy test, we were woken up just before 4am by the people across the street declaring their undying hatred of each other at the top of their lungs.  I’m not kidding, the windows were closed and I could hear every word.  Ugh.  Anyway, I figured that that was my morning pee and I may as well get it over with (I’m notorious for being a day or two late, testing, and then immediately getting my period).  Only it was positive.  The Rocket Scientist had come down, too and made a mention that our parents would likely be up, so we decided to go ahead and call.  There.  Happy now?

Ovulating? Me?

Why yes, thank you. I am. Ovulating. On my own. Without drugs. We’ve thrown around the line, “the best treatment for PCOS is a succesful pregnancy”, but now there’s actual hormonal proof. Yippee!

That being said, we are still testing everyone a second time to confirm that everyone’s works are working.

That was the good news. The bad news is that if things are not working in 6 months or so, IUI’s are not covered by NHS. And they don’t do Clomid. They do FSH injections. And IVF. Which I don’t qualify for for another year and some. That sucks.

We could do the IUI on our own, but it would cost 1400 GBP. That also sucks.

So for now, we are celebrating the fact that it seems I have suddenly gained the ability to ovulate. Thank God!

And now for the sex! Sorry, was that TMI? We’re all adults, right? We know how this works.

So, wish us luck!!

With the ovulating, of course.

National Health

So we have an appointment with our local fertility clinic this afternoon. I find myself quite nervous. I knew I was getting anxious, but as today has worn on, I have become positively beside myself. I’ve managed to keep myself busy, I got up early and made crepes for breakfast, I’ve baked some truly delicious honey/molasses bread, and I’ve just about finished all the laundry I was behind on. I’ve also finished a unit of my online course and started the next one. And Doodle has been nursed, napped, fed, cleaned, and kept happy. I need to be anxious more often. It makes me ridiculously productive.

On the other hand, I’d prefer to go without the stomach ache, slight light-headedness, and general shaky feeling. Sounds bad, I know. But it’s all physical. I haven’t been running stuff around in my head, I have apparently been suppressing any and all thoughts about it and it’s just making me feel like crap. Part of the nervousness is the prospect of starting all this again; the meds, the testing, the not-so-comfy IUI, and the very real prospect of being pregnant again in the next couple months (we didn’t have the horrible experience that some have had, I ovulated on the first round of clomid and we got pregnant on our first IUI so I’m kind of expecting it to go just as well the second time round).

The hitch, and I think this is what’s really got my knickers in a twist, is that it’s not like the US system where we had great insurance and a really great doctor that I had picked out myself. The clinic we’re going to is at the hospital instead of a nice cosy office. I’m likely going to have a male doctor, not my first choice for sure. And the real kicker…they can say no. I’m not sure of the rules or waiting lists for these procedures. I know the rules for IVF are really quite strict. If we needed IVF I wouldn’t qualify right now. I’m a little freaked. I’m trying not to be. Obviously. I never get this much work done. I’m sure all my worries will come to naught, but of course until I know for sure I’m having a bit of a moment.

Oh, yeah. And if they want to start Clomid, I have to wean Doodle first. Yeah. I might actually be ready (although I feel guilty that I am), but I know that Doodle for sure is not. Okay, for real now I think I may throw up sometime before this appointment actually takes place. Hopefully it’s not as we’re checking in. On someone’s shoes. That would suck.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Single lines

If I truly believe in the sovereignty of God and that His timing is perfect and that He has my days already recorded and mapped out and knows the beginning from the end and knew that Doodle would be and would be ours and when and also knows the fate of of any and all future children, then why, oh why, does that single line feel so devastating. It’s not like we’ve been specifically trying, charting, timing, waiting. But I’m late. Late even for me. And it’s not like I have any reason to believe that this time round will be any different than the last. Except that I’ve been back on the Mommy Boards over at Soulcysters and 4 (or is it 5 now) of the other women who were due with me last March are pregnant again. Without trying. One already delivered. Irish twins. Just like my Mom and Aunt. Do women without fertility problems feel such deep wounds over such a simple thing as a single pink line? I want to go rummaging through the waste bin to have one more look. Just to see if maybe, maybe, there’s a shadow that I missed, the last time it was so faint.   Part of this is pride, I’ll admit it. I feel like I’ve paid my dues. Done my time. Shouldn’t have to go through that again (my heartfelt apologies to all my friends who went through so much more than me, I really do know how lucky I got off). This time, I wanted to feel like a normal woman. A woman who’s body hadn’t betrayed her. A woman who’s God hadn’t said ‘no’ again. Now I really do understand that this isn’t likely an actual ‘no’ but a ‘not right now’. And I understand that He has very good reasons for the ‘when’. But none of that sinks in tonight. Tonight things feel hollow. Distant. Tonight I feel empty.