or at least give you ultrasounds.
Back to the obs yesterday, back with cramping and bleeding and all the fun stuff. Bean's heartbeat had slowed down a bit and with the cramping etc, off to emergency ultrasound land. They couldn't find the bleeding, and the heartbeat had picked up again by the time I got there, so they figured everything was fine. It was a beautiful weekend here, and we were out and about most of it, so they figure I just overdid it with the exercise after the mostly bed-rest of the last few months. See, i knew exercise was a bad thing. Bean is measuring a bit small, more than a week behind, so waiting for the obs to ring to let me know that that's ok. Spot the wonder boy and I are both six foot or so, so unlikely that we are having a genetically small person. Spot thinks that I need to stop worrying about percentiles and is already planning on how he can help disguise report cards from me when they come home from pre-school with a C. Currently, the options include paper planes :)
Cleaned out my wardrobe on the weekend to make room for the new fat clothes (still not using the other word). I am surprised that I got fat so early, didn't expect that (even with the obsessive need to eat hot potato every day) but between two full stim cycles this year, plus mild OHSS I don't think I can blame it all on my appalling pregnancy eating habits, the plan was to get appalling morning sickness, now I have to do something that actually involves diet and exercise (once exercise goes off the banned list again). Go figure.
Apart from that - nothing to see here. Which is kind of nice, all in all.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Fathers day ...
Its been Father's day here, which has been a little, well, odd. Let me start by saying I am not the Hallmark celebration type, particularly when it comes to parental days. I am all for honouring my parents, but not for a card with a schmaltzy message. Parental units days come with a whole bunch of iss-ews for me at the best of times and lately they have just been one more reminder that I was barren. You know, the one where the universe slaps you in the face and says "Gee, everyone is out doing family things WHICH YOU WILL NEVER GET TO PARTICIPATE IN - HAhAAAA. Have a nice day".
Like I said, my mother died when I was four, and my father, much as I adore him, is not really a manly man, more a dancing queen. Consequently, when I was little, parental unit days were divided into "look who doesn't have a mother day (its a fun game that all the family can play)" and "why doesn't anyone ever get me a powertool (ummm, cos you would chop your own leg off and why have you decided to suddenly need a chainsaw)". Until the hippy primary school stepped in and made everyone celebrate Primary Carer and Other Parent day. Oh, I kid you not. Everyone had to make a primary carer card and create a non-gender specific present. Hell, weren't the seventies fun, lets not do that again. Don't even talk to me about feminist nursery rhymes, scarred for life, I tells you, scarred for life.
This does have a point, this interesting ramble down memory lane, the point being, that Hallmark card days are never good for the 90% of society that doesn't fit into the nuclear family, the single parents, hell, the single (although they have their own special circle of hell, called Valentines day) the infertile, the families who are separated through distance or choice, those who have lost their children to death or are fighting disease. Generally, its crap.
Until this year, and Spot the Wonder Boy. If anyone ever wonders why I refer to my dear boy as Spot, try seeing him when he is excited. He bounces, he runs circles, he makes lots of noise. It really is apt, and it was hysterically funny on Sunday when he got a couple of messages from friends saying "happy father's day". We had already phoned all our fathers (he has a choice of two - see Hallmark works for that - NOT), and then texts starting coming for him. I'm not sure, but I think it was the first time that he thought of himself as a father in the present tense - that Bean is here now and doesn't seem to show any inclination to leave yet. Much weeping ensued, but the joy was contagious. Excited puppies usually are, and I think that I actually got excited for a brief moment before the impending sense of doom returned to the background. Still, it was nice to be excited. So, Happy Fathers Day to everyone, and enjoy your families.
Like I said, my mother died when I was four, and my father, much as I adore him, is not really a manly man, more a dancing queen. Consequently, when I was little, parental unit days were divided into "look who doesn't have a mother day (its a fun game that all the family can play)" and "why doesn't anyone ever get me a powertool (ummm, cos you would chop your own leg off and why have you decided to suddenly need a chainsaw)". Until the hippy primary school stepped in and made everyone celebrate Primary Carer and Other Parent day. Oh, I kid you not. Everyone had to make a primary carer card and create a non-gender specific present. Hell, weren't the seventies fun, lets not do that again. Don't even talk to me about feminist nursery rhymes, scarred for life, I tells you, scarred for life.
This does have a point, this interesting ramble down memory lane, the point being, that Hallmark card days are never good for the 90% of society that doesn't fit into the nuclear family, the single parents, hell, the single (although they have their own special circle of hell, called Valentines day) the infertile, the families who are separated through distance or choice, those who have lost their children to death or are fighting disease. Generally, its crap.
Until this year, and Spot the Wonder Boy. If anyone ever wonders why I refer to my dear boy as Spot, try seeing him when he is excited. He bounces, he runs circles, he makes lots of noise. It really is apt, and it was hysterically funny on Sunday when he got a couple of messages from friends saying "happy father's day". We had already phoned all our fathers (he has a choice of two - see Hallmark works for that - NOT), and then texts starting coming for him. I'm not sure, but I think it was the first time that he thought of himself as a father in the present tense - that Bean is here now and doesn't seem to show any inclination to leave yet. Much weeping ensued, but the joy was contagious. Excited puppies usually are, and I think that I actually got excited for a brief moment before the impending sense of doom returned to the background. Still, it was nice to be excited. So, Happy Fathers Day to everyone, and enjoy your families.
Friday, September 4, 2009
thank god its friday ...
and I get to go home and stay there, lie on the couch and not move for a couple of days.
I had to tell my boss yesterday, well, I didn't have to but it seemed rude given that he wanted to pay lots of money to send me to a conference in March in Washington. Which would have been fab, but it turns out I have other plans for March. To say that misogyny is alive and well fairly describes his reaction. He is old skewell when it comes to having women in his team at the best of times, and that's cos we all go and get pregnant on him. I pointed out that I didn't just go and get pregnant but it didn't seem to mollify him. Today, he turns out that he is not talking to me. And no, I don't work in a kindergarten, it just feels like it sometimes.
Things are OK on the family front. My SIL seems to be coping remarkably well, and I am trying desperately to maintain an illusion that this means nothing for my bean.
Still - thank god for the couch.
I had to tell my boss yesterday, well, I didn't have to but it seemed rude given that he wanted to pay lots of money to send me to a conference in March in Washington. Which would have been fab, but it turns out I have other plans for March. To say that misogyny is alive and well fairly describes his reaction. He is old skewell when it comes to having women in his team at the best of times, and that's cos we all go and get pregnant on him. I pointed out that I didn't just go and get pregnant but it didn't seem to mollify him. Today, he turns out that he is not talking to me. And no, I don't work in a kindergarten, it just feels like it sometimes.
Things are OK on the family front. My SIL seems to be coping remarkably well, and I am trying desperately to maintain an illusion that this means nothing for my bean.
Still - thank god for the couch.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
This is not a good day ....
This is a day filled with sadness and not a little guilt. My brother and SIL lost their baby today. You know, the one that I spent an entire post bitching about getting pregnant accidentally, oh, yes that one. At 14 weeks. Which is over the magic marker. I am so sorry for her, and fairly guilt ridden. I am fairly sure that I didn't ever wish her to miscarriage, even in my darkest moments, but I know I have made lots of comments about her journey versus mine - you know the ones: "Not for her the pain of miscarriage, nope, she just pees on a stick and wanders around telling people". Yep, those sorts of ones. Rationally I know this is nothing to do with me (hell, I AM the centre of the world round here) but I can't help feeling that my complete lack of caring has somehow caused this.
Then there is survivor guilt. She was due about a week before me - how much fun is March going to be for her. On the brighter side, I live on the other side of the country from them, so she can at least ignore it as much as possible, but even so, that's gotta suck, and I am so sorry for them. Plus, as far as I know, this is the first time that this has happened to them - they have perfect conceptions, followed by perfect pregnancies, followed by perfect births. I know that sounds bitchy and I wish I could rephrase it but even in their grief that's what it feels like on this side of the IF fence. Now they are in my land, without the passport, and I remember so clearly the pain of the first. Not that it ever gets easier, but it does get different, well, at least it did for me. I wish that there was something I could do to make this better for them, but apart from being here, there isn't. God, if there was, then I would have figured it out by now. So, I sit here feeling useless and guilty. Fabulous combination by the way.
On top of that, today is the anniversary of the death of my mother. This is not a big deal for me - it happened 32 years ago, when I was 4 but it is a very big deal for my father. He has never gotten over it, and it's still a day of sadness and pain for him. Losing his grandchild does not make this day a happier one.
The other overwhelming thought here, of course, is please not me, please not me. Magic marker's don't seem to be the magic talisman that I thought they were. If the accidental baby can die, then what does that mean for my bean. Again, rationally, I know absolutely nothing. But we are in pregnancy land here, it has no rationality, just a morass of fear and pain and joy and a rollercoaster of emotional stuff. And that's without the hormones. None of this is helped by the fact that at the obs visit yesterday, he couldn't find the heartbeat on the Doppler machine. He played around for a few minutes, watched my blood pressure explode and then sent me off for an ultrasound where bean tickered away happily and waved. All good in the end, but not in the middle bits.
I have no answers, I just want to crawl into bed and feel sorry. For myself, for my family, for all the horrible things I said in hindsight, for everything.
Then there is survivor guilt. She was due about a week before me - how much fun is March going to be for her. On the brighter side, I live on the other side of the country from them, so she can at least ignore it as much as possible, but even so, that's gotta suck, and I am so sorry for them. Plus, as far as I know, this is the first time that this has happened to them - they have perfect conceptions, followed by perfect pregnancies, followed by perfect births. I know that sounds bitchy and I wish I could rephrase it but even in their grief that's what it feels like on this side of the IF fence. Now they are in my land, without the passport, and I remember so clearly the pain of the first. Not that it ever gets easier, but it does get different, well, at least it did for me. I wish that there was something I could do to make this better for them, but apart from being here, there isn't. God, if there was, then I would have figured it out by now. So, I sit here feeling useless and guilty. Fabulous combination by the way.
On top of that, today is the anniversary of the death of my mother. This is not a big deal for me - it happened 32 years ago, when I was 4 but it is a very big deal for my father. He has never gotten over it, and it's still a day of sadness and pain for him. Losing his grandchild does not make this day a happier one.
The other overwhelming thought here, of course, is please not me, please not me. Magic marker's don't seem to be the magic talisman that I thought they were. If the accidental baby can die, then what does that mean for my bean. Again, rationally, I know absolutely nothing. But we are in pregnancy land here, it has no rationality, just a morass of fear and pain and joy and a rollercoaster of emotional stuff. And that's without the hormones. None of this is helped by the fact that at the obs visit yesterday, he couldn't find the heartbeat on the Doppler machine. He played around for a few minutes, watched my blood pressure explode and then sent me off for an ultrasound where bean tickered away happily and waved. All good in the end, but not in the middle bits.
I have no answers, I just want to crawl into bed and feel sorry. For myself, for my family, for all the horrible things I said in hindsight, for everything.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Going public ...
So we passed - well, Bean passed, and I came along for the ride. Nuchal fold testing this morning, and the radiographer has just rung with the news that bean is 1:3423. Given that my age related risk is 1:270, I think that we can call that a pass.
The radiographer is the same one that has done all my scans over the last 6 weeks and she made me a "going away present"; she had done a montage of all the scan of the last few weeks. Obviously these people don't remember pregnancy hormones when they do these sorts of things - tears ensued. Is it bad form to hug your radiographer _ I can never tell.
I will miss some of these people as this journey continues - the fertility nurses, the radiographer, the receptionists who know I am insane and put me through anyway. Finally something that non-ivfers can envy, I have developed amazing relationships with these people and that is something that normal people who only have a scan a couple of times or poas will never get to know. So pththththtfffftt to them. OK, I'm not sure it's worth it, but they have made an awful journey bearable at times, and I take my hats off to them.
Since Bean has passed the test, and doesn't need huge needles stuck into them for the fun of it, Spot the wonderboy is trying to work out the most ingenious way of telling everyone. That was our deal, he wasn't allowed to discuss it with anyone who I knew, outside his family until 12 weeks was up. I am fairly sure that he has already taken up the full page ad option in the local paper and is working out some discrete way to change his facebook status. I, on the other hand, still feel that it is tempting fate to say the words out loud, let alone discuss it publically with anyone. I am hoping that changes before, say, the child is in primary school, otherwise that could get a bit embarrassing. Until then, I am just getting fat.
Which I am, although I am not sure that has much to do with Bean, and more to do with the excessive amounts of cheese on toast that I seem to be consuming. A meal is not a meal unless it involves melted cheese and some form of hot bread. I am blaming the bean - needs calcium and protein etc, but really, I just like cheese on toast a lot.
The radiographer is the same one that has done all my scans over the last 6 weeks and she made me a "going away present"; she had done a montage of all the scan of the last few weeks. Obviously these people don't remember pregnancy hormones when they do these sorts of things - tears ensued. Is it bad form to hug your radiographer _ I can never tell.
I will miss some of these people as this journey continues - the fertility nurses, the radiographer, the receptionists who know I am insane and put me through anyway. Finally something that non-ivfers can envy, I have developed amazing relationships with these people and that is something that normal people who only have a scan a couple of times or poas will never get to know. So pththththtfffftt to them. OK, I'm not sure it's worth it, but they have made an awful journey bearable at times, and I take my hats off to them.
Since Bean has passed the test, and doesn't need huge needles stuck into them for the fun of it, Spot the wonderboy is trying to work out the most ingenious way of telling everyone. That was our deal, he wasn't allowed to discuss it with anyone who I knew, outside his family until 12 weeks was up. I am fairly sure that he has already taken up the full page ad option in the local paper and is working out some discrete way to change his facebook status. I, on the other hand, still feel that it is tempting fate to say the words out loud, let alone discuss it publically with anyone. I am hoping that changes before, say, the child is in primary school, otherwise that could get a bit embarrassing. Until then, I am just getting fat.
Which I am, although I am not sure that has much to do with Bean, and more to do with the excessive amounts of cheese on toast that I seem to be consuming. A meal is not a meal unless it involves melted cheese and some form of hot bread. I am blaming the bean - needs calcium and protein etc, but really, I just like cheese on toast a lot.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
days pass ...
All is good - bleeding has settled, cramps have not, but I am living with them.
Ultrasound in a couple of days - not that that's a focus or anything. We are trying to work out acceptable stats, you know, when the amnio becomes necessary as opposed to just life-threatening for the bean. Dr Google comes in handy yet again. Spot the wonder boy barely participates in the conversation - its completely unnecessary from his point of view, as everything is fine, and will be fine. I envy his optimism, and his happiness in the bean.
Over the last couple of days, he has started reading us a story before bedtime - good so bean can learn his voice, good for language development (yes, I know its 12 weeks old - did someone call for a helicopter parent). Not so good for the dislexic who has never read children's stories before. He is horrified, completely appalled. He may even venture into a bookstore to find something with less blood and gore. I pointed out its moralistic blood and gore, and yet the horror remains. Wait until he gets to the Little Goose Girl!!
Apart from that, we wait, magic marker not withstanding, all is good.
Ultrasound in a couple of days - not that that's a focus or anything. We are trying to work out acceptable stats, you know, when the amnio becomes necessary as opposed to just life-threatening for the bean. Dr Google comes in handy yet again. Spot the wonder boy barely participates in the conversation - its completely unnecessary from his point of view, as everything is fine, and will be fine. I envy his optimism, and his happiness in the bean.
Over the last couple of days, he has started reading us a story before bedtime - good so bean can learn his voice, good for language development (yes, I know its 12 weeks old - did someone call for a helicopter parent). Not so good for the dislexic who has never read children's stories before. He is horrified, completely appalled. He may even venture into a bookstore to find something with less blood and gore. I pointed out its moralistic blood and gore, and yet the horror remains. Wait until he gets to the Little Goose Girl!!
Apart from that, we wait, magic marker not withstanding, all is good.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
its getting closer all the time ...
Surprise ultrasound this morning -its such a great start to the day. The clinic realised that they didn't have measurements for the 12w nuchal fold blood test that goes with next weeks u/s so we got a surprise u/s.
Bean is fine - its caught up to where it is supposed to be - 11 weeks today and it measured exactly 11 weeks. It bounced around for a while and waved, and then got bored, rolled over and refused show us anything other than its back. Well, it was 8 in the morning. I, of all people, can understand the urge to rollover and go back to sleep at that time in the morning. I was right, the heartbeat is slower, but on 179bpm so still fine.
Did I mention it waved.
Maybe this is real after all.
Bean is fine - its caught up to where it is supposed to be - 11 weeks today and it measured exactly 11 weeks. It bounced around for a while and waved, and then got bored, rolled over and refused show us anything other than its back. Well, it was 8 in the morning. I, of all people, can understand the urge to rollover and go back to sleep at that time in the morning. I was right, the heartbeat is slower, but on 179bpm so still fine.
Did I mention it waved.
Maybe this is real after all.
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