Think globally...

Today, somewhere out there, people are enjoying the sunshine and warmth. Friends are having iced coffees and planning a weekend at the cottage.

Somewhere out there, a young woman plans a memorial service for her baby son, who lived only a few short days in the NICU. This is her third loss, and it happened the day before her birthday. She is in her own private hell.

Somewhere today, someone has just gotten the elusive positive beta.

Someone is being induced, and will meet her beautiful daughter today or tomorrow.

Somewhere, there is a funeral happening for a woman who died young, leaving two teenage daughters and a shell-shocked husband.

Somewhere, someone's biggest annoyance is that their supermarket is all out of the right brand of cereal.

Somewhere, someone is still marked by the trauma of losing her mother three years ago.

Somewhere, someone is carefree and happy, on summer vacation, thinking that life doesn't get any better than this.

Actually, life doesn't get any better than this.

All of these events co-exist. All of these experiences are for real, all in the same moment. In the same second.

I've been hyper-aware of this complexity since our ultrasound on Friday. All I can think is, this is life. For good or for ill, life doesn't get any better than this.

Make mine a double.

My mother-in-law has only known for 26 hours, and she's already pissing the hell out of me.

"Ooh, this is so exciting! Aren't you excited? Why aren't you excited?" Um, do I need to say the words "dead baby"? Get a clue, woman.

"You'll have to get a registry so that my friends buy you gifts you actually want. I've had to buy so many gifts for their grandchildren, it's time to get some back..." Yeah. Because this IS all about you. And gifts. Bite me.

And of course, the gem that no pregnant woman should go 24 hours without hearing:

"Take care of yourself. You're doing everything for two, remember."

Actually, I'm doing everything for one and another one that's smaller than the piece of fingernail I just threw in the wastebasket. BUT... in the spirit of giving my MIL's advice at least SOME consideration, I bring you:

Things I will be doing for two

10. Exercising. Or in my case, studiously avoiding exercise. Instead of "not exercising" for one, my avoidance routine will now also include whining about how I wish I could exercise, but I just can't catch my breath.

9. Puking. Just when you thought you were done... nope, here comes another one - and this one's from Lumpy! Bleeech.

8. Drinking. Yes, you bloody well heard me. You can make my frozen peach bellini a double.*

7. Lashing out at the idiots of the world. Thanks to hormones, I'm twice as bitchy as I used to be!

6. Blogging. There's my entry, witty and insightful, and then there's Lumpy's: "bdnjkb ugrkla gjirea hdhjeg mgunbla". Experts tell me Lumpy's typing will improve when his arm buds sprout fingers.

5. Eating. Of course. Don't worry, we're getting plenty of calcium thanks to my steady diet of ice cream and cheesecake. Does a body good.

4. Sleeping. Move over, Rip van Winkle, you're hogging the blanket. And no need to whisper. It takes twice as much noise to wake me these days!

3. Dressing. My clothes are just that little bit bigger now. Thank god the baby-doll look is in this year... I don't want to be outed yet.

2. Smiling. Well, since Lumpy can't smile very well, his share actually has an averaging effect, so I get more of a smirk. See #7.

And the #1 thing I'll be doing for two...

1. Coming. That's right, multiple orgasms. I'd be an irresponsible mother if I wasn't doing everything for two, right?

I can't wait to tell my mother-in-law.

Ultrasound day

We had our ultrasound this morning.

Lumpy is measuring 7w2d, right on schedule. The sac is also the perfect size. Cervix is 3.5 cm long, which is apparently excellent. Lumpy's little heart is fluttering away in there... so fast. The doctor thinks that based on Lumpy's location in my ute, I'll have a posterior placenta - meaning that I'll be able to feel Lumpy move sooner. He said that everything looks perfect, and our chances of getting a healthy baby out of this are excellent.

So why don't I feel any better?

If you recall, 7w2d was when we saw squishy's heartbeat. Everything looked fine then too. Can you blame me for not feeling excited yet? No matter how low the chances of miscarriage are, they were just as low last time - and we all know how that ended.

I don't think I'll feel much better until we get past the point where we lost squishy. Even then... I'm so hyper-aware that there are lots of things that can go wrong. So while a Fertile Myrtle would be thrilled and excited about the baby, I'm still skeptical that it's going to happen. I'm in a holding pattern. With nausea.

Trying hard, or hardly trying.

So now that the nausea is at bay, I've been noticing the crippling exhaustion. I'm short of breath every time I do something more difficult than reaching for a Hershey Kiss. I slept until noon today, and I believe that I'd be completely able to lie down and sleep until 7:30 tonight, if I so decided.

But no. I must be strong. Must call and confirm tradesmen (hope they weren't coming today). Must deal with the stack of mail and bills that has been here since I got my BFP.

In the spirit of getting things done, I took a shower. Now I'm really tired. Need to rest. Maybe in 5 minutes I'll be able to get up and get dressed, and then... I dunno... do some of those things on my list. Or do one of them really half-assed and then fall asleep on the couch. Either way.

Thanks to anonymous...

Thanks to yesterday's anonymous commenter, I realized that I was just nauseous from WORRY. Wow. It was all in my head. Why didn't I think of that? Today I feel much, much better... thanks, anonymous!

Oh, wait. It wasn't anonymous that made me feel better. It was the DRUGS.

Thank God for diclectin, is all I have to say. While I'm still a bit queasy all day, it's nothing like what I had all last week. I'm functional. I mowed the lawn over at our new house. So yeah, it looks like Bart Simpson's haircut, but the important thing is that I tried. Right? ...right?

But back to that mystery commenter... I've realized something very important: I'm now a popular enough blogger that trolls want to attack me! How cool is that?

It could be too much Buffy -

but I feel like a vampire. We've been inside all day. At least I was able to satisfy my craving for Quesadillas - guess my grocery shopping wasn't that bad.

I'm still feeling yucky, though. Any sane woman would have taken the diclectin by now... but not me. Reassurance, yada yada. You know how it goes. Right?

Last night I lectured Mr. December (he deserved it). I told him that I'm physically bearing the brunt of this pregnancy (not to mention all the treatments and tests it took to get here), and therefore he has to step up to the plate in other ways. I think I got it through his head - he did a really decent kitchen cleanup. Now if he would only do some laundry and change the sheets, we'd be in business.

Ugh, feeling pukey. And yucky. And while I'm happy and grateful to be feeling this way, I think I'll just go sleep it off.

Well, which would you choose?

Today I got up, saw Mr. December off to work, and then lay down to let my "breakfast" work its magic. I woke up at one P.M. Still feeling queasy, and not up to attacking the mountain of dirty dishes (even just to put them in the dishwasher), I went to bed. It's 6:15 now, almost Shabbat, and I've done nothing all day. I think it's safe to say that given the choice between hugging the toilet and hugging my pillow, I chose my pillow. Wouldn't you?

Well, I made it to 9:00!

Maybe it had something to do with the Ramen noodles I ate at 2 a.m. after puking up all my dinner and evening snacks.

Yes, I said puking. I'm now officially the pukey chick. Mr. December was highly amused.

Yesterday I couldn't stop coughing - a dry, shallow, wheezy cough. I was supposed to have been weaned off my puffers by now, but I took them last night because I felt so crappy. My chest was all tight and everything. I need to see my family doctor, but getting in is always a challenge. I'm going to call now and throw myself on the mercy of his receptionist.

My apartment is a pigsty... and just looking at the mess is making me feel nauseated. Is it any wonder I spend most of my time sleeping? Ugh... there should be subsidized housecleaning for women who feel like shit. Morning sickness, ART-related depression, progesterone crazies, whatever. We should all get a little help.

I'm thinking fondly of all of you, my dears. I sincerely hope that you'll get to feel as crappy as I do, for the same reasons, one day soon.

There's a 6 o'clock in the MORNING?

I'm suddenly awake, stuffing my face with cheese and crackers (and grapefruit juice) in the hope that my extreme hunger won't turn into extreme nausea just yet. I'd rather be sleeping, but then again I'd also rather not feel as awful as I did last night.

I was good for about 6 hours yesterday, though, and I think it was because I had steak and eggs for lunch. Mmmm... steak. This could turn out to be an expensive first tri.

In other news, I've been feeling too awful to swing a sledgehammer. I'm passing the torch to my capable little brother. Oh, and hiring people. I have a meeting with a bathroom company this morning. At the NORMAL hour of 10:00.

This is all getting pretty expensive. Looks like Lumpy will be sleeping in a sock drawer this winter.

Lesson for today...

Don't send a pregnant woman to do your grocery shopping.

The smell of the deli counter was overwhelming and nauseating, so I barrelled through the store throwing random stuff into the cart. Now we have lots of groceries, but nothing that goes together as a meal. AND when I hit the ice cream aisle I was suddenly hungry again, so I bought some super-decadent ice cream bars that I'd never buy in a million years under normal circumstances.

Oh, and every time I cough (and I do that frequently, still getting rid of a cold) I end up gagging. Lovely.

Know what's sick? I know that I can call the clinic and ask for some kind of meds, but I'm so reassured by this nausea that if it went away, I'd be a nervous wreck. How sick is that?

feeling bad = good?

Remember how I had no symptoms? Yeah, not anymore.

I'm starving all the time. Then, when I finally eat, I can get down about ten bites... and then I start feeling nauseated. As in, this food that was so good and satisfying is suddenly repulsive to me. So I stop eating. Eventually (after an hour or so) the gross feeling goes away and... yup, I'm hungry again.

What's that about? Is this the beginning of "morning sickness"?

I never felt really sick with my last pregnancy, so I guess this is a good thing. Right?

I'm only at 5 1/2 weeks... presumably this gets worse. Stick with me, folks. Especially if you like a good puke story.

I'm hungry.

I'm always hungry.

Today I took down a huge chunk of tile wainscotting. I'm starting to get really good at this demolition thing.

I had a mini-breakdown worrying about whether I was putting little Lumpy in jeopardy (sp?) with all the exertion and the dust (although I do wear a mask) and everything. Then I decided to stop being scared. According to everyone I know, there's nothing I could do to cause a miscarriage if this is a healthy pregnancy... so back to demolition I go!

No symptoms. None. It's almost freaky.

Demolition 101

1. Make sure you have a brother as awesome and capable as mine. He pulled down wall studs with just his hands.

2. Have plenty of band-aids on hand for said brother.

3. If your breathing is fogging up your goggles, then the dust mask isn't well fitted.

4. Duct-tape your bra to your chest - chunks of plaster do not mix well with sore nipples.

5. Remember to make hilbilly-like noises every time a large chunk of wall comes down. YEE-HAW!

6. Keep your water bottle covered.

7. The bigger the sledgehammer, the more satisfying the crunch.

8. That brown contractor paper won't hold up to falling debris. Use a few layers.

9. Have a good mantra, like "it's only drywall" or "I've always wanted open concept!"

10. Steel-shanked boots. Not only do they protect your from stepping on nails - they can also be used to kick the $hit out of Canadi@n Tire employees who don't have a clue what products they're selling.

1887, and I love my sledgehammer!

My beta today (19 dpo) was 1887! That puts it at a doubling time of 1.93 days, according to the online calculators. For those who aren't fluent in beta-speak, this means that so far the pregnancy is progressing in a textbook manner. Works for me!

RENOVATION UPDATE:

The kitchen cabinets are gone. I also tore out the tile wainscotting on one wall, and tore out half of the archway we're removing. I feel so productive! The house still smells like smokers, though. Anybody have a trick to get rid of the smell?

Demolition is fun!

We took posession of our new house on Thursday. Since then, we've ripped up some butt-ugly carpet and even taken down parts of the kitchen wall. Can I just say, demolition is fun! It's awesome to start with a wall and end with nothing!

And yes, I wore a proper dust mask with a filter.

I know that some of my readers will probably stop reading me soon - I remember how much it sucked to read "pregnant after infertility" journals when I was still in the process. It sucked. So to all those readers I say, thanks for sticking with me, come back and visit anytime, and I hope that your treatments are successful soon. I'm still reading all of you.

I am, however, going to try to be sensitive to those readers - so I hope they'll mostly be able to stay. For the next couple of months at least, I plan to include a lot of info about my renovations, including the fabulous before-and-after pics and descriptions of the process. Hang around, it'll be fun!

647

The nurse called. My beta this morning was 647.

"That's really good," she told me, "but it doesn't tell us whether there's one or two in there!"

Yikes.

I go back for another beta on Monday. In the meantime, I'm determined to be joyful about this, no matter how long it's fated to last.

What I'm thinking right now.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Two lines.

Hmm... it's darker than the bfp I got at 15 dpo last time, and I didn't even use FMU today.

Holy shit.

I'm so excited.

I'm so terrified.

Wow - a new house and a positive pregnancy test on the same day!

Holy shit.

That is all.

Why I haven't POAS yet

Thank you all for the resounding POAS chorus. The biggest reason why I haven't yet done it is because I promised Mr. December I wouldn't. We want to find out together, if indeed there's anything to find out.

Other equally valid reasons - up until yesterday my cervix seemed kind of low, so I was doubtful. It's super-high today, though, and tightly closed. Also, I was thinking that the high heart rate was a result of the cold I have... so didn't want to get my hopes up. Also, ever since discovering Dollarama pregnancy tests, I was loathe to spend 45 shekels on a ClearBlue.

But my hopes are officially up. My pulse has been consistently high... the LOWEST it's been was 84 bpm, and that's often my fastest in other cycles. My cervix is way up.

But other than that, no symptoms. My boobs don't hurt, ache, twinge, or anything else. No CM. No mood swings. In fact, I'm in a really great mood despite the fact that it's 4:30 a.m. and I've only had one hour of sleep tonight and the AlItalia check-in was brutally slow and reeked of nepotism... but I digress.

I love you guys, and your cheering means so much to me. I'll be home by Thursday evening (honestly, I'm so unsure what time and day it is right now) and I'll probably POAS on Friday morning... so if you don't know what's up by Friday at noon, you can officially start hounding me.

See you soon!

Take two...

I tried posting this last night, but my internet time ran out. Bah.

It's now 13 dpo.

I'm extremely sick. Stuffed up head, productive cough, fever, the works. Afraid to take anything for it, but I finally capitulated and swallowed some Tylenol Cold. Tylenol-based meds are safe, right?

Yesterday I had six - count 'em, six - nosebleeds.

For the past two days, my pulse has not dipped below 82 beats per minute. My resting pulse rate has generally been around 92. Normal for me is between 64 and 80.

Today I had some blink-and-you'll-miss-it brown spotting with a tiny glob of brown CM. I'm trying to decide whether I need to buy some pads... didn't bring any since I don't usually get AF until I'm off the progesterone.

I have NONE of my usual progesterone symptoms - and I'm on the same dose as in previous cycles. Boobs are totally normal. No nausea. No anything... except for nosebleeds, high pulse rate, and spotting. Those could totally be from other things, right? Does having a cold elevate your resting heart rate?

Somebody knock some sense into me before I get all hopeful.

Three more days until beta.