Welcome

Been thinking of changing the name of my main blog to "Barefoot, Pregnant and in the Kitchen Witch..."

Here's my temporary blog - I created it just so I could have a place to write about this pregnancy until I felt ready to share it with more than family and a couple of friends.

I'm at 11+ weeks, heard the heartbeat again last night, and I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut anyway about this, so....

And the beat goes on...

Had my check up for the month last night. Spoke with my doctor a few minutes first on how I'm feeling and all that, glad to be getting over this sore throat/cold/whatever it is...

Time to hop up on the table...she said since it's still relatively early in the pregnancy, not to worry if we couldn't hear a heartbeat today. The fetus is so small at this point, sometimes the Doppler won't pick it up.

I said that was fine (lie). A squirt of warm gel and we could hear some static - indications that, baby or not, other things are always happening in there...

And then we heard it. It's a kind of wavy, swishy, pounding sound. Probably all the fluid that does that...but anyway, there it was - the brass ring of every visit (at least in my experience) - the heartbeat. Nice and strong.

As soon as I heard it I relaxed completely. I know it's still early - I know there are no guarantees, I know anything can happen. But I'm nearing the end of the first trimester, and so I'm beginning to feel like things are safer.

Worrying all the time takes all the fun out of being pregnant. And since we only plan to have two children, this will be my last opportunity to enjoy pregnancy.

So I plan to.

I'm having one of those "I hope I'm still pregnant" kind of days today. Suddenly trying to remember if I felt queasy at all...or ravenous. Those have been my big daily reminders...and I wasn't queasy or particularly hungry today at all.

I'm trying to tell myself it's probably just a side effect of being sick, but that's not helping, because then I think - what if by taking tylenol and sudafed and ampicillin (all approved by my dr's office) I have killed the baby???!!!

And since at 10 weeks it's too small for me to feel movement, I have, obviously, no way of knowing.

But I also remember feeling like this just before a lot of my check-ups when I was pregnant with my son. Even when he was big and busy and would get the hiccups and I'd watch my stomach jump. If he was asleep for a while in there, and not moving, and it was the day of my next dr's appointment, I'd worry.

"WHY ISN'T THE BABY MOVING???" And everything was always fine.

But that could be what's going on. I am closing in on the end of the first trimester, and I want to tell more people that I'm pregnant, but I want to wait this time, just to play it safe-ish...and now that I'm getting down to that wire, I am fearful that "something bad will happen." Which is my scardy-cat way of saying I'm fearful that the baby will die. Or already has.

Yes - I hear people - "Shhh!! Don't even say that! Don't think like that!" But I would bet my brand-new 6-quart Kitchen Aid Mixer that there isn't a mother out there who hasn't worried that exact same thing more than once while she was pregnant. Even if she never said it to anyone. Not even to herself - if it was just a fleeting feeling followed by a little shudder and a brisk shake of the head to get rid of it ... I think we all think it. Worry about it. Not 100% of the time. But at least once.

So I am looking forward to my appointment next Thursday to put my fear to rest. Until a bit before the next visit, when it will wake up and cause me to shudder again.

Waiting for the phone to ring.

I'm waiting for a call (oh my god it's ringing now) - nope, stupid telemarketer. He asked if he could speak to my husband (using his full name, not the shorter version everyone who actually does speak to him uses) and I said "nope! and I'm waiting for a call." And I hung up on him. I'm usually a bit kinder. But not today.

Because today, ladies and gentlemen, my throat still hurts, ear-to-ear, as it were, and if you were to take a flashlight and peek at the back of my throat you would be horrified becuase it looks like I've got little blobs of cottage cheese tucked away back there, squirrel-like, for a snack. It's ugly. And it feels ugly. And I'm working on another night of very little and very interrupted sleep, and I am waiting for my OB/GYN's office to call back so I can beg to take this stupid antibiotic that my other doctor says is safe for pregnant women, OR they can give me another course of action. Besides the warm salt water gargle. Besides tylenol. They. Aren't. Helping.

And I'm TIRED. I'm sick tired on top of pregnant tired on top of normal busy mom tired. Only this week I'm not being busy mom completely, at least not busy working mom, because I'm home - still - again - because of this damn throat of torture I've been cursed with. I would scream, but it would really, really hurt.

I just don't know what to do. Well, yes I do, I need a nap right about an hour ago, but I decided to wait for the nurse to call back. Which she hasn't. Yet. And I'm not complaining - I love the entire staff of that office - they're very caring, kind people. And she will call. I'm sure she's busy with actual patients who are there having exams and things...so I'll probably get a call around lunch time. But in the meantime, time is ticking away, and if I can take this antibiotic, then I'd like to get a few doses under my belt before the sun sets.

I'm so sick of being awake in the middle of the night.

And I'm not one to whine about pain, normally. I have a burn on my wrist that's healing and itchy, but when I actually burned it (on a rack in the oven, in a hurry) I didn't even make a sound.

I did not have an epidural when I had my son. I had 16 hours of back labor and an hour of pushing (and I know, yes, plenty of people have had it worse) and even though back labor hurt more than I ever could have imagined, and my contractions did not have a contract/rest/contract/rest rhythm - it was more of a CONTRACT/contract/contract/rest/CONTRACT/contract/contract thing going on - I had, near the end, a little bit of stadol which knocked me out for about half an hour to give me a break from the contractions and their wacky beat. But no epidural. And that's how I plan to have this next one. (Though, if I could avoid back labor again, I wouldn't argue...though I hear if you have it once you're doomed.)

Anyway, my point is, this sore throat is driving me more nuts than the contractions did. And besides - they ONLY lasted 16/17 hours. THIS has been going on since Saturday night!

It's making me a little wild. That's all.

I'm going to take a nap, if I can. I guarantee that the minute I finally fall asleep, the phone will ring.

It's no fun being sick

And especially so when you're pregnant and there's really not a whole lot you can take to make the symptoms go away. Tylonal really doesn't do a damn thing for me. Well, okay, it brought my temperature down the other night. So that was a good thing. But my throat hurts like hell and nothing seems to ease that. I went to the Dr this morning thinking maybe I had strep, but the test came up negative. The Dr prescribed ampycillin (however it's spelled) which is the mildest of the antibiotics, or the safest for pregnant chicks to use...and just to play it safe, I called my OB/GYN and told that office the situation, and I was told that since I don't have strep, not to take it. Which, on one hand, is fine with me - the less chemicals coursing through my blood and this baby's blood the better. But on the other hand - I don't feel good!!!!!!!!.

I stayed home from work today, and if my throat isn't VASTLY improved tomorrow, I'll stay home again. My job is mostly talking, and I'm just not up to a full day of it. Plus, I'm pregnant, and I need to take care of myself not just for me but for this new little one I'm carrying around.

I find myself worrying more about this one than I think I did with my son. I could be wrong - it's been a while. But I think, having lost two, I'm afraid of losing three. My next appointment is next week, and I'm looking forward to that just so I can hear the heartbeat again. It's a tremendously reassuring sound.

Gotta go now. Maybe more applesauce will help....

The Week That Wasn't

Or something like that.

On Monday I went for my ultrasound. I invited my mother to go too, because I thought she'd like to see the heartbeat - it's such a cool experience, and they didn't do ultrasounds years ago when she was pregnant with me or my sister.

So I picked her up at her house and off we went to the Radiologist.

This may sound strange, but I love my radiologist. I have been to him quite a few times over the past couple of years, and he has given me both good news and bad, and I just like his personality, his kindness and compassion, and his encouragement to keep trying. He told me (before I had my son) that his wife had been pregnant 6 times and they had 3 children. So. It happens. It helped. And he seemed to be just as happy when he showed me my son's little 6 week old heartbeat for the first time as my husband and I were to see it.

So anyway, in we went. And, after numberous tries, both externally and internally, he had to tell me what I had guessed right away. No heartbeat. He said it appeared to be what's called a "blighted ovum," which is what happens when the egg is fertilized and starts forming a yolk sac, but then never continues to grow and develop. It was just a little blobby lump on the inside of my uterus. My big empty uterus. My approximately 6 weeks pregnant in size uterus.

I did not cry.

He also said that he wanted me to come in for another ultrasound in about 5-7 days, and that one would be the diagnostic visit, because, he said, in rare instances, the second time he looks, the heartbeat is there, and the embryo was just hiding or something. He said not to be hopeful, but...

So I made an appointment to come in on Friday (yesterday, as I write this), for that next ultrasound.

I did not cry.

As we walked down the hall from his office, my mom put her arm around my shoulder, and I just said "Don't do that" in a flat, emotionless voice. And she just said "I understand" and took her arm away.

I thank her for that.

I needed to be flat, emotionless, and tough. I drove her home, and my dad came out to ask how it went, and in my flat, emotionless voice I said "mom can tell you" and he understood and looked concerned but did not pat my hand or press me for details.

I thank him for that.

I drove back to work, jaw set, determined to be flat, emotionless, tough and strong. And I was. I emailed my sister to tell her, and she commiserated, and that helped too.

And I thank her for listening to me be angry via email.

And I didn't cry.

I didn't call my husband when I got back to work. I knew my voice would break if I had to say anything. He called me when he was on his way to teach his college students, and I told him, managing to keep my flat, emotionless voice in charge of things.

And when I picked up Alex at daycare, I hugged him tightly.

Work this week has been tense, unhappy, unpleasant...just that feeling of waiting for the ax to fall and wondering if your neck would be next. Still having layoffs. Apparently they get rid of a couple people, then do the math and see how much of an affect that will have on the bottom line. If it's not enough, they get rid of a few more. So who knows when they'll be happy.

It's hard to feel positive about your job at a time like that. And I wasn't feeling happy anyway. But I did my best to keep my jaw set and my voice flat and emotionless, and not to let any of it get to me.

It didn't, exactly. But I noticed this week that I was uncharacteristically distracted, forgetful, and inefficient. My desk just felt like a mess and I didn't care enough to clean it up.

Every day my mother asked me, via email, how I was feeling. Tuesday I felt like hitting. Anything. People, things...just to lash out. Wednesday or Thursday I told her I felt like my name was Isabel.

I started feeling my wall breaking, crumbling, on Thursday and Friday morning. All I kept thinking was how it wasn't fair. I know - life's not fair. So I was acknowledging the fact, I suppose, and feeling sorry for myself. And feeling guilty for that, because I am blessed to have my one healthy son. Some people don't even get that.

I was also miserable at the thought of having my insides scraped out another time. I just didn't want to have to go through that again. I considered just letting nature take charge and when it was time to get rid of this failed pregnancy, then I'd let my body handle it.

But meanwhile, I'm having all these pregnancy symptoms - which the radiologist had said was normal, as my body hadn't concluded that there was nothing to feel pregnant about. So until it figured that out, I was going to be alternately starving - no, ravenous - and queasy, and my hair would continue to come out in great quantities. I was becoming a miserable, fat, bald chick for no good reason.

Bill went to the ultrasound appointment with me on Friday. He met me there after work about 5 minutes before we were called in. I went in and changed into my three-armed hospital gown and hopped up onto the bed or bench or table or whatever it is, stuck my feet in the stirrups (back in the saddle again, heh heh) and he draped me and handed me the "probe" (yes, that's pleasant sounding, isn't it?) and away we went. I watched the monitor and there it was, my big black empty uterus. He wiggled the probe around, checking every angle, I guess, and I was about to say "It's empty" in my flat, toneless voice, when the radiologist spoke instead.

And he said "Son of a gun, there it is!" And there it was. A little tiny grey thing within the cavernous black space...and there, visible as a part of that tiny little grey thing, was a flickering bit - and that was the heartbeat.

I said "Holy shit" and then apologized, and my dear, wonderful, happy radiologist told me I could say anything I wanted to say at that moment.

To say I was surprised is to say Everest is a molehill.

I just couldn't believe it. I had spent the whole week refusing to be hopeful, because I didn't want to be disappointed again. I just decided that this appointment would confirm Monday's diagnosis.

But it didn't. Oh my goodness.

Bill was in shock too, I think. I wanted to giggle. I wanted to spin around - like Julie Andrews at the beginning of "The Sound of Music" - only faster.

We walked out of there in a daze. But cautious.

It is still early yet. Oh - speaking of that, I was told I was about 6 weeks along, and the estimated due date is May 12, 2004.

So - 6 weeks. Yes, that's early. Anything can happen, at any time. So I am cautious. But there was a heartbeat. We saw the flicker of it. And we heard it too - what a beautiful sound. And we have the little printout pictures from the ultrasound machine. The first pictures of our next child.

So keep your fingers crossed.

Tomorrow

I'm scheduled for an ultrasound at 10:30 tomorrow morning. I was going to go by myself - it's too early in the school year for Bill to take a day off, and I can pretty much handle whatever the news might be.

But then this morning, after a quick visit to my sister's house (for coffee, bagels, and a haircut for my son) and another stop at my parents' house (who graciously watched my son while I ran to the grocery store), I suddenly thought, on my drive home, that I should invite my mom to the ultrasound.

So I just called her and did that. I thought she might like to see the little person, see and hear the heartbeat.

I'm not considering that there won't be a heartbeat.

I know it's certainly possible, having had that experience twice, but I feel pregnant. Very much so. I can't explain it. But I have a good feeling about this one.

Yes, it's tempered by the "what if" factor. But. No point in being miserable unless there's a definite reason to be. So I'm expecting a heartbeat.

Also curious to find out about how far along this one is. It's kind of uncertain, so the ultrasound will help fine tune that part.

Can't wait, actually.

Best part is I don't need a full bladder for it.

The first time I had one of these I was told to drink a liter or so of water an hour before the appointment. No problem.

Then Bill and I drove down to the radiologist's office. In Narragansett. In the summer (it was July). And got stuck in beach traffic. Miles and miles of beach traffic. I was practically upside down in the car, legs crossed and just praying that we wouldn't hit any bumps in the road because my bladder was uncomfortable, to say the least. Oh it was horrible.

And then, waiting (waiting!! for my turn, I begged the receptionist to let me use the restroom before I ruined the carpet. She said I could go "a little" - ?????? Which I did. Which was even worse than the car ride.

And then that was all capped with the bad news anyway, so the entire full-to-bursting bladder experience was a rather cruel joke on Someone's part.

So, whatever the outcome tomorrow, at least I don't have to feel like an over-filled water balloon first.



Yes, I'm still keeping my fingers crossed.

Test Two Positive

And I have an appointment with "my" radiologist (I've been there 3 times - I feel I can say that now) for next Monday at 10:30 to see, well, basically to see if/that there's a heartbeat. I know that doesn't guarantee a thing, but, it's something for right now.

And when I was on the phone with my OB/GYN's office, and the receptionist asked me the usual question - "What was the date of the first day of your last menstrual period" - ah. Well. I'm not really sure, since there was no bleeding when I should have had it in August. So...??? July?

So she used July. And by that calculation, she put my possible due date at May 11th. "I think that's Mother's Day," she said happily, "Wouldn't that be nice?"

But then later on in the day I was thinking - if I'm not that far along...then I'd be due about a month later, right? So wouldn't that be early June? Just like my first child....hmmm.

Well, I should know something - no, strike that, I will know something more on Monday.

Keep your fingers crossed for me.