Trying to Keep Perspective

(Warning: this post is angsty and self-indulgent and more than a little whiny. I'm not sleeping much these days, and I was up all night last night with LL, and I'm not having any contractions anymore, and my emotions are all over the place. Can't wait until the real roller coaster sets in post-partum.)

Shocking news: I'm still pregnant.

To be clear, when I say that I'm trying every labor induction technique that I can manage, I'm including all of the following:

- spicy foods
- raspberry leaf tea
- copious sex with S
- stopping of prenatal vitamins
- foot and ankle massage
- acupressure on the spot between thumb and index finger
- nipple manipulation
- bouncing up and down on an exercise ball
- long walks
- driving repeatedly over railroad tracks
- eating basil
- talking calmly to Kermit about how cool it is on the outside
- S leaning over my abdomen and yelling, "Oh for goodness sake, contract already!"
- reverse psychology, where S and I talk loudly about how we're not really ready yet

You'd think that one of those would work, right?

I had my final prenatal appointment yesterday, where Dr. M remarked on how high Kermit is, how he can still see the entire head on ultrasound because he has not dropped at all. I verified with him that all of the home induction attempts were fair game, and he supportively said, "Yeah, sure, whatever you want. I'll see you for the c-section on Friday." Seriously. I thought that I sucked at getting pregnant, but apparently I am equally bad at going into labor.

Even worse, the closer I get to the scheduled c-section, the less okay I feel about it. I am completely at peace with LL's c-section, but this time, it feels really wrong. Too... planned. I feel like I did everything possible to avoid a c-section with LL, and there was ultimately no other way for him to be born. This time, it just feels... too convenient maybe? I asked Dr. M a lot of questions at my appointment yesterday, and in an attempt to make me feel better about it, he finally said, "You'll be amazed at how different this c-section will be than your first one. Your first one followed a long, difficult, exhausting trial of labor, and there was a fair amount of urgency by the time the surgery happened. This time will be very calm, very mellow, very casual." But that just makes me feel worse about it. I kind of feel like the birth of a baby should be accompanied by some drama and fanfare and hard work. There should be exhaustion at the end of it, to show that something significant happened. But just lying down on a table for a while and then being handed a baby, very casual? After months of fertility treatment and months of gestation and a car accident and a wrong diagnosis and careful diet restrictions and ultrasound scares and breech maneuvers and excitement... it just seems anticlimactic.

It isn't helping that there seems to be a general lack of enthusiasm surrounding the birth of this child, at least among our family. S's sister explained her plans to us over the phone yesterday, and despite several detailed conversations with her over the last several weeks, she apparently never actually understood anything about the scheduling of the bris. She asked us exactly when the bris will be happening, and we had to explain (again) that we won't know until the baby is born, since the date will depend on the birthday, and the time will depend on the mohel's schedule. If Kermit is born by c-section on Friday, then the bris will be the following Friday, probably in the morning. At which point she told us that she has tickets to a show next Thursday night, plus she doesn't want to spend any vacation time to visit us, so couldn't we just do the bris over the weekend? Um, no. Religious mandate is going to take precedence over her social calendar for us. Sorry. But she's welcome to visit us and Kermit after the bris instead of trying to attend. But she doesn't want to do that, either, so she probably just won't bother visiting.

Then we talked to S's parents, who informed us that they planned to arrive in time for the bris, but no earlier, which is what we expected. But then they're only staying for maybe 4 days, if that, because they're rather busy this time of year. Really? S's parents are both retired. They hang out with friends and do various hobbies, but they have no scheduled time commitments at all. None. And we have no idea what they mean by "this time of year." The holidays are over; what is there for them to be busy with in the middle of January? We tried to get them to explain what had changed, since we expected them for 10 days, like they did with LL, but they just said, "Eh, we'll see you guys again later in the year." It's very odd, and S and I are both kind of hurt. They were so excited when LL was born, and they adore him, but they have yet to express any emotion at all about Kermit. (Related: S's parents sent out a holiday newsletter. It contained photos and updates about LL, but S and I were not mentioned at all, not even once. They actually wrote, "We will soon be grandparents again, as LL is expecting a baby brother early in 2011." I find it supremely weird that they worded it that way -- why would you talk about the upcoming birth of a child by mentioning the baby's relation to you, and to a sibling, but not even acknowledge that the baby will have parents?)

My family is slightly better, but I have several relatives who have repeated to me their annoyance that they can't plan their attendance at the bris more in advance. Which is ironic, since I have a scheduled c-section, so Kermit's arrival and bris are actually much more predictable than most. But again, that just makes me feel awful, because part of the fun is supposed to be the uncertainty, the excitement of turning to your husband and saying, "Honey, it's time!" I hate being robbed of that. Again.

But honestly, most of this is probably hormones and jitters. I told S about all of these feelings, and he asked if I wanted to call Dr. M and postpone the c-section until next week sometime, to give myself even more time to go into labor naturally. But when I really think about it, I don't want to do that, either. Every indication in the world is that this baby is big and getting bigger. Each day that we wait, the likelihood of my being able to birth him shrinks. What's the point of waiting to go into labor if I'm practically guaranteed a c-section anyway? The whole reason that I chose this Friday for the scheduled c-section was that it seemed to be a tipping point where my odds of a successful VBAC dropped below the potential benefit. And I chose it several weeks ago, when I was much more rational than I am right now, before the discomfort and nesting and hormone roller coasters and sleep deprivation set in. I know, intellectually, that second guessing myself right now is both expected and pointless. I even predicted that it would happen exactly like this -- that I wouldn't go into labor, but that I would start doubting the decision the closer I got to the c-section. And here I am.

So. If I wanted to, I could postpone the c-section. But I don't think that I'm going into labor next week anymore than I'm likely to go into labor tomorrow, so I'll just be in this exact same position, just one week later. Really stupid. I do believe that the c-section on Friday is the "right" call. Ultimately, what I'm upset about is the fact that it's necessary. I hate that I'm not going into labor on my own. And there's really nothing that I can do to make myself feel better about that. Even reminding myself, over and over again, that what really matters in all of this is a happy, healthy outcome. That one way or another, approximately 36 hours from now, I'm going to be holding Kermit in my arms. Which is really the whole point.

Waiting Waiting Waiting

Um, yeah, still here. Still pregnant. Still sitting around mindlessly making up things to go on a to-do list, and then doing them, because I'm bored. And tired. And I'm fairly certain that I've been in early labor for like 3 days now.

Saturday night, around 9pm or so, I started getting fairly regular contractions, stronger than I've ever gotten without the help of pitocin. And they got stronger and more intense, but never closer than 10 minutes apart. And it went on like that until 5:00 in the morning, when they abruptly disappeared. For that entire time, I was certain that I was in labor, that this was it. I even sent S to bed early to get some sleep, so that he would be well rested whenever we needed to leave for the hospital. But Sunday and today were both fairly uneventful.

I'm having contractions again tonight, ones that are definitely a huge step up from the Braxton-Hicks contractions I've been having for many weeks, but not quite as strong or regular as Saturday night. So it's looking to be another fairly sleepless night for me. I'd love to believe that this is all leading to me being in actual breathe-through-the-contractions, check-into-the-hospital labor, but... yeah, I don't believe it is.

At most three more days of waiting.

Flip!

I had my 38 week appointment today, with the main goal of discovering whether Kermit had flipped to be head down during the past week. When we discovered last week that he was transverse breech, Dr. M had given me a home exercise to try, which he said was "occasionally" successful in turning babies into the proper position. The birth instructor that I had with LL had also given me some exercises. And in the comments on my last post, eulogos pointed me to this site with yet more exercises to try to get a late-term transverse baby to cooperate.

The exercises from these three sources were all different, but they amount to the same thing: get your butt higher than your head, then hang out like that for a while. Gravity will pull your uterus towards your throat, stretching the ligaments in order to widen the bottom of the uterus to make room for baby's head, and at the same time, gravity will also pull the baby up away from your pelvic bone, hopefully dislodging him enough so that when you stand upright again, he'll settle into a head down position.

Sounds great, right? A few minor problems. First, when your uterus is bulging with some 10 pounds or more of baby + placenta + amniotic fluid, it is supremely uncomfortable to hang out upside down. Those 10 pounds are more or less free-floating in your abdomen, so flipping over so that gravity pulls them towards your lungs and other organs makes you feel really ill. It's hard to breathe, too. And the blood rushing to your head doesn't help, especially if you're like me and you've been battling dizzy spells and light-headedness all pregnancy anyway. Also, once you're nine months pregnant, you're not exactly at your most nimble. Once you're done being upside down, it is nontrivial to get back up again.

But, I really wanted the baby to turn! So, I spent the last several days hanging out upside down like a bat. And apparently my efforts were successful, because as of today, Kermit is head-down. Woo hoo! I don't think that I actually felt the moment when he settled that way, but by last night, I was fairly certain that he had turned, so it was nice to confirm it this morning. Everything else at the appointment was also good -- blood pressure is low, urine is clear, I lost 2 pounds (!), heart rate is good, fluid levels still appear to be normal. And we got a really clear view of Kermit on the ultrasound, including a close-up of his hands, which appeared to be holding onto my uterus for dear life. He didn't look like he wanted to vacate anytime soon.

So... vertex baby: check! Next step: spontaneous labor. If all else fails, Kermit's eviction is in 10 short days. Everyone may now begin thinking happy labor thoughts for me!

Bullets

- I am officially full term. Labor is theoretically imminent at any time now, but I'll believe it when I see it.

- Given LL's giant head when he was born, we had an ultrasound today to attempt to estimate Kermit's head size (and the rest of him, while we're at it) so that we have a little bit of information on what we're in for if we get the opportunity to try a VBAC. We'll get the final results at a regular prenatal appointment tomorrow, but early signs seem to show that he's big, but not Guinness Book of World Records big. So I guess that's something.

- It's a little hard to believe that he's so big, considering everyone I meet seems to agree that I'm not really showing. I'm 37 weeks along, which is 8.5 months. I'm measuring between 38 and 39 weeks, which is almost 9 months. Kermit is definitely measuring close to 39 weeks. And yet consensus from friends is that I look 5-6 months pregnant, tops. At a holiday party this weekend, when I told people that I had 3 weeks to go, everyone (and I do mean everyone) assumed I misspoke and corrected me with, "You mean 3 months, not 3 weeks." Nope, I really do mean 3 weeks.

- Here at 37 weeks, I have gained 16 pounds. Apparently, it's all baby.

- We should really pack our hospital bag. I keep having fits of contractions, and after each one, S panics a little and says, "We need to pack our bag!!!" Then we get distracted with other things.

- On the plus side, our house is finally coming together. The guest room is almost clean enough for someone to sleep in it, and the rest of the house is almost ready to be presented to guests. Almost. We made a lot of progress this weekend. My mom arrives on Friday.

- I'm sick. I managed to not get sick at all while pregnant with LL, and other than a small cold during my first trimester, I thought that I would escape this time, too. Guess not. So far it is very mild (wicked sore throat, slight cough, mild congestion, occasional headache). S and LL had this same thing a few weeks ago, so I do have some idea of how it is likely to progress. The good part: it doesn't really get any worse. The bad part: it lasts forever. They're both still coughing, after several weeks. Can I tell you how much I dread going through labor with a sore throat and cough?

- LL's new favorite snack: hot herbal tea. S had been making himself a lot of tea, to soothe his own sore throat, and LL was very curious. So, we made him weak tea, diluted it with cold water to cool it off, sweetened it with a bit of honey, and served it in a very grown up ceramic mug. He's totally enchanted by it. Every morning he asks for "hot tea! hot tea!" and then questions us extensively once we give it to him, to make sure that it's actually "warm, not hot!"

- We set up Kermit's bassinet in our room yesterday. LL is very intrigued.

- Any suggestions on how to keep a curious and persistent toddler from climbing into a bassinet?

Induction Morning

He's a stubborn one, our little Barack. Today is D-Day, and still no sign that he's planning to initiate this process on his own. Here at +9 days, we're no longer comfortable waiting for him to make his move. Induction it is.

The way inductions work at our hospital is that you call first thing in the morning and ask if they're able to take you. If they're already slammed (women in natural labor get higher priority than I do; another big thank-you shout-out to my body for letting me down once again), then they tell you to stay home. They'll call when more rooms have opened up, probably in a few hours. That's the situation we're in right now -- yet another holding pattern. Our bags are packed, the car is ready to go, the house is nice and tidy... there's nothing else for us to do but wait.

I'm off to continue pacing around the house, waiting for the phone call that will let me know that I can go give birth to my child.

Bigger Pumpkin?

Sigh. After 40 weeks of comparing baby Barack's size to a different object every Tuesday, I am now left high and dry here at 41 weeks. I'm still pregnant, but there are no more size comparisons to be had. Why? Because I'm not still supposed to be pregnant.

I asked S how big he thought Barack was this week. I mean, what's bigger than a pumpkin? A large gourd? S's response: "Your baby is now as big as a one-week-old newborn." Thanks, dear.

Friends and family members have offered several theories on why the baby hasn't made his appearance yet. Two of these roadblocks were cleared away earlier today:

Problem #1: Perhaps the baby was waiting until he had a crib.

Solution: I called today to check on the crib. You may recall that we ordered it back in May, and it was due in by mid-August. Then the store went out of business, the order was transferred, the manufacturer started reporting shipping problems.... The expected date was pushed back to mid-September, then to late October. When I called today, I found out that the date is now mid-December. I had made my peace with using a bassinet for the first 6 weeks, but that's not something we can do for 3 months. I told the store to cancel the order and refund our deposit. I then asked them to place an order for our second-choice crib (one we liked, but not as much, and it won't match the changing table, and it's more expensive). Turns out the second-choice crib was in stock. They delivered it this afternoon. We now have a crib. Ta da! Barack now has somewhere permanent to sleep. You can go ahead and be born now, kid.

Problem #2: Perhaps the baby was waiting until he had a new car to ride home in.

Solution: We have a new car. (Yep, today was an expensive day.) We ordered a new car back in July, because both of our cars are old, tiny compact cars that can technically fit a car seat, but just barely. The car was (you guessed it) back-ordered, until early September. Then they revised their guess, to be mid-October. Instead, the dealership called this morning to tell us that the car had arrived. I haven't even sat it in yet (S drove it home, while I drove our old car) because, with my luck, my water will break in our brand new car. So, baby Barack also now has a nice comfortable new set of wheels in which to ride home from the hospital.

S and I have been joking for months about which would arrive first: baby, car, or crib. The final ordering: crib, then car, then (hopefully) baby.

Last note: our baby betting pool has now been decided. My mom had the latest guess, and even her guess has now passed, so she wins by default. I told her that it was her fault that I hadn't gone into labor yet, because she historically has won an awful lot of baby pools. Her response: "Okay, but I bet you'll go into labor tomorrow, before you need to be induced." I bet I won't. So we both put our money where our mouths are -- I bet her double or nothing for the entire size of the pool that this baby isn't going to be born before Thursday.

Less than 36 hours until I'm induced....

40w6d and Counting

Yep, I'm still gestating. I had an NST at the hospital today, and once we spurred Barack into action with some ice cubes and apple juice, he performed admirably. I've been having contractions since Saturday night, but nothing serious. The closest they ever get is 10 minutes apart, they're usually more like 30 minutes apart, and sometimes they disappear for hours at a time. They're uncomfortable, but not remotely painful. And they're short, usually only lasting 20 seconds at the most. In other words, other than being extremely annoying, they're not actually doing anything as far as bringing along the baby. We verified this analysis during the NST, when I got to point at the tape and say, "Those were contractions, right?" and the nurse responded with, "Those little blips there? Yeah, I suppose so." Then she confirmed that yeah, I'm probably not going to be in full-on labor anytime soon.

As of tomorrow (just a few short hours away) I'll be a full week past my due date. This sucks sucks sucks sucks sucks. I desperately want to have this baby already, but I'm also growing increasingly nervous about being induced. And I still have two more full days to sit around the house thinking about it, which means my anxiety level is only going to go up.

The only bright spot of the last few days was that the Packers looked awesome in yesterday's football game. And it looks like we're going to win our fantasy football game this week. As I was watching highlights last night, S walked in and mocked me with this: "That's okay, dear -- you stay on the couch watching Sports Center while I do the dishes and clean the kitchen." I told him that if he wants to take over the pregnancy for the next few days, I'd be happy to trade places with him. Sadly, he said no deal.

Now that it's not Sunday anymore, I'm out of distractions. I'm bored and exhausted and bloated and uncomfortable and nervous. Sucks sucks sucks sucks sucks.

Deadline Extended

S and I have been having a lot of discussions over the last few days about labor induction. I'm not thrilled with the idea of being induced, but I didn't realize until yesterday how totally terrified S is of the idea. Hard to define why... it just freaks him out. So, we talked to Dr. M this morning, and we've pushed back the induction two days. New plan: NST on Monday, to make sure that everything is really truly okay. If so, we'll wait until Thursday for the induction, at which point I'll be at 41w2d, or 9 days past my due date. I'm not thrilled with waiting that long (Dr. M was supportive, but also tossed around the phrase "fetal distress," which is hardly comforting) but S was so incredibly stressed at the thought of inducing too early that this seems like the best plan for us. So, baby Barack's new eviction date is September 18. If he wants to hand-pick his own birthday, he has to do it before then.

As for me... I'm fairly certain that Barack dropped further into my pelvis yesterday afternoon, because I'm suddenly feeling him somewhere between my knees whenever I stand or walk. Sharp downward pains whenever I move. Walking any distance more than the length of our house is now difficult enough that I'm essentially under house arrest. Bored bored bored. The phone calls and emails asking "Where's the baby?!?!", which I thought were kind of funny two weeks ago, are now just pissing me off, so I've stopped answering the phone. I don't remember ever feeling this anxious and uncomfortable ever in my life. But I also have not had a single real contraction that I'm aware of, other than some extremely light tightening feelings that are probably Braxton-Hicks contractions, because they're not painful at all.

Six more days of this, at the most. But please please please let me go into labor before then.

Still Waiting

Today was our last weekly appointment, in honor of reaching a full 40 weeks yesterday. No point in scheduling any more checkups. Dr. M thinks I'll be in labor by Monday, but just in case, we scheduled an induction for next Tuesday, September 16, six days from now. I am so uncomfortable and so worn down, and the baby appears to be so big (and still growing, as opposed to my pelvis) that we decided not to go past there. S wanted to wait until Thursday or Friday to induce, but I'm at my limit. As much as I would much rather go into labor naturally, on my own, I am just not willing to wait that long. So, Baby Barack now has a deadline. If he wants to avoid the dreaded pitocin, he needs to make his move before Tuesday.

The good news is that Barack and I are both still healthy. My blood pressure is actually dropping again, my weight is still on target (27 lbs total over a full 40 weeks), and Barack's heartbeat remains strong, as do his kicks. I have made a bit more progress since last week: 1.5 cm dilated, 70% effaced, -2 station. Better than a week ago, but at this rate, I'll be having the baby sometime around Thanksgiving.

Between napping and pacing around the house, I've been watching DVDs while sitting on a birthing ball. We have a fairly large collection of movies, so for the past several days, I've been watching anything that sounds even remotely appealing, just to pass the time. This approach has led to a rather eclectic mix of movies. How's this for a double-header: "Casablanca" and "Zoolander." I've watched "Crimson Tide" several times because looking at Denzel Washington makes lots of situations better. Young Harrison Ford has also featured prominently in several selections.

I've also been re-reading Harry Potter books. They're just the right mix of distraction and fluff.

But... these mindless coping techniques are starting to reach their limit of effectiveness. I had been hanging out with my friend C, who was due the same time as me, but she went into labor on Monday and had her daughter early Tuesday morning, so now I'm on my own. Waiting waiting waiting....

Pumpkin

Yes, I'm still here, and still pregnant, at 40 weeks. I'm not exactly happy about it, but not a whole lot I can do about it, either. S and I have both marveled at how quickly I went from "Hey, pregnancy isn't so bad!" to "I seriously can't go on like this!" Because seriously -- I can't go on like this. Our five day triple-digit heat wave (once again, without A/C) is thankfully over, which is helping a bit, but I'm still so gosh darn uncomfortable that I'm finding it a bit hard to see the positives. I'm not sleeping, and I'm barely eating, thanks to near-constant heartburn. It hurts to sit, it hurts to walk, it hurts to lay down, it hurts to move. Even the smallest task, like getting in and out of a car, seems like a monumental undertaking. Everything about me is swollen.

It's strange to count down to a particular date for 9 months, and then that day comes and is just another day. Nothing is happening. And somehow, I had convinced myself that I would go into labor before my due date, so I never really wrapped my head around being in this position.

We have tried every old wive's tale that exists to try to induce labor. And yes, I do mean every single one. Even the incredibly uncomfortable ones (eg, spicy food does not induce labor, it just makes heartburn even worse). S has even taken to yelling at my cervix ("Dilate!!!") and my uterus ("Contract!!!") but they're both ignoring him. Still, it's healthier than yelling at the baby ("Leave!!!") which was his initial instinct. He does occasionally plead gently with the baby ("Please come out so we can meet you!") but it's only brought about swift kicks to my hip bones. We even tried the tempting-fate approach and hosted a small Monday Night Football party last night (Go Packers!) but alas, I didn't go into labor by halftime like I had hoped.

My 40-week appointment is tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be showing some more progress, but either way, we're going to have to have a conversation about induction. Suggestions on how to kick-start labor are more than welcome. Even silly ones. In the mean time, I'm off to continue bouncing up and down on a birthing ball.

A Little Progress

One of the most common questions a pregnant woman gets asked, in addition to "Boy or girl?", is "When are you due?" In the beginning, I answered this question with a date. I'm due in September. After a while, when I was further along, I answered with relative time. I'm due in 2 months. Six weeks. Things like that. This past month, I started answering in days. I'm due in 18 days. Sounds close, doesn't it? I have now reached a new milestone; a new way to answer the question.

I'm due on Tuesday.

How bizarre is it that an answer of "Tuesday" is actually unambiguous? I don't need to specify which Tuesday, because it's this coming Tuesday. The very next Tuesday we're going to have. That's when I'm due. On Tuesday.

That's all very exciting, but baby Barack may have other plans. I had my 39 week appointment today, and though there has been some progress, it's not much. I'm 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced. Rather than look at those numbers in absolute terms (one measly centimeter?!?) I'm choosing to look at them in multiplicative terms: I'm infinitely more dilated than the zero centimeters of last week! Doesn't infinite progress sound great?! The baby has also dropped a bit more, to -3 station. It might not seem like much, but last week I wasn't even on the scale, so this is definitely an improvement.

So, the good news is that some progress has definitely been made. The bad news is that this sort of progress doesn't necessarily translate into being any closer to labor. Dr. M is hopeful that I'll go into labor on my own sometime in the next week, but if I end up having to keep next week's appointment, he's going to want to discuss induction. Baby Barack seems to be in excellent health, but he also seems big, so nobody (including me) wants to let me go more than a week or so past my due date. One way or another, Dr. M wants the baby out of me by September 17 or so.

Otherwise known as: a week from Wednesday.

Watermelon

T minus one week and counting. Yep, I'm at 39 weeks. The famous "Enough already, get this thing out of me!" stage. I have to say, overall, I think that I have had an easier pregnancy than most. I've experienced quite the range of pregnancy symptoms, but each one has been fairly short-lived, with long respites that have actually been pretty comfortable and enjoyable. More good than bad. These last few weeks, though... they're starting to wear on me. Yet another heat wave without air conditioning, this one reaching triple digits, has pushed me over the edge. Unbearable heat. Unbelievably swollen ankles and feet. Painfully swollen hands. No more than 3 consecutive hours of sleep in weeks. A remarkably squirmy baby who manages to get his little legs kicking at every major internal organ I own. I am ready to move on.

My unrelenting exhaustion means that I was much relieved to have been off from work this past week. Around short but frequent naps, I was able to knock off just about everything on my to-do list. (A few small things remain, but they're very small. "Buy stamps" kind of small.) By Friday, though, I was out of things to fill my days, which is making the waiting even harder. Time moves sooooo slowly when you're home alone in an overheated house with nothing fun or productive to do. (Bored? Might as well begin labor....) Besides, the hospital has air conditioning. And it would have pleased the punster in me to go into labor on Labor Day.

I am still (naively) hopeful that I will deliver before my due date next Tuesday. My own guess in our baby betting pool is this Thursday, September 4. But as hours and hours go by without so much as a single Braxton-Hicks contraction, that goal seems further and further away. On the bright side, Dr. M probably wouldn't let me go too far past 41 weeks without inducing me, given that baby Barack is consistently measuring on the large side, so I have ~17 days max yet to go. In the mean time, we've rented DVDs, gone out to see some movies ("Tropic Thunder" was only so-so. "Bottle Shock" was light and fun.), had lunches out with friends, and been generally trying to socialize as much as possible. The waiting continues.

All clear, genetically

The results of S's blood test are in, and he is not a carrier for the genetic mutation that I carry, so we have been cleared of worries on the genetic front. With that hurdle behind us, we can focus on the next goal: hearing a heartbeat through Doppler at Tuesday's appointment. Given the return of my nausea this week, though, I'm less concerned than I was a week ago that something has gone wrong. It's nice to feel hopeful again.

My job between now and Tuesday: to stay busy. I have several work-related tasks that I'd like to finish, and even more house-related tasks to get through. (Wow this place turns into a pigsty awfully fast when I'm too sick to clean!) We have no big plans for this weekend, other than bringing some big loads of stuff to the recycling center and to Good Will. Once we start to accumulate baby stuff, I'd like to (at worst) keep the house junk-neutral. Actually, I have a dream where we get rid of so much crap over the next few months that, even with the addition of baby gear, there ultimately is less stuff in the house in October than there is now, but that's probably just a fantasy.

Kumquat

Warranted or not, I have officially decided to assume that everything is fine. On a daily basis, I continue to go through very, very brief periods of time (typically about an hour, mid-morning) when I am ravenously hungry, followed by absolutely no desire to eat anything the rest of the day, culminating in nausea, heartburn, bloating, and occasional cramps by evening. And every day, around 3-4pm or so, I completely crash and need to lay down for a while. Other than the fact that the nausea is much more mild and short-lived than it was in weeks 6-9, this all sounds incredibly normal.

I am 10w0d today (double digits! woo hoo!) and my next appointment is in one week. The drama and worry of the past week made time pass very, very slowly, but I'm hopeful that this week will go more quickly, and then we can finally get some official medical reassurance that everything is okay.

I am also getting more and more anxious to start telling people about the pregnancy. Yesterday, my father again started pressuring me to have children, and I had to deflect him with jokes (Stephen Jay Gould's theory of regression to the mean, and how it implies that there's a good chance our kids will be dumber than us; my dad did not find it amusing, even though it is one of S's favorite abuse-of-math-and-science arguments). I'm also suddenly getting a lot of long-term planning things coming up at work, and I don't know how to properly respond without either taking on tasks that I know I won't be able to finish because of maternity leave, and also not uncharacteristically making excuses that will cause people to start assuming things. Actually, most of my coworkers are more likely to think that I'm planning to quit than to think that I'm pregnant, but I don't really want them assuming that, either.

Freaking out a little less

I think that it's possible that I'm still pregnant, though I'm not 100% convinced. (S. is using his "father's intuition" to try to ease my fears, but I'm not sure that I completely believe him.) After feeling physically great all day Thursday and most of Friday, I felt sick again by Friday night. Not sick like I had been, but a bit sick nonetheless. I wasn't nauseous, but I did feel sick to my stomach, more like my digestive system was out of whack. And I had a killer migraine, the first one since becoming pregnant. My breasts still felt remarkably non-sensitive, but my over-sensitive sense of smell had returned. (It came back in the middle of dinner at a restaurant, with the disgusting smell of salmon and onions wafting to me from ... somewhere.)

Saturday repeated much like Friday. I felt fine all morning and afternoon, only to feel headache-y and stomachache-y by evening, soon followed by the worst bloating and heartburn that I've ever had (despite barely eating all day). Today is another repeat so far. I woke up feeling fine, though I have almost no appetite. And thankfully, there has still been no bleeding, so maybe it really is just that the worst of the morning sickness subsided ahead of schedule and I'm actually just incredibly lucky.

When I started feeling sick again Friday night, S. looked honestly relieved and said, "I'm so glad!" which earned him a glare from me. I'm now in the less than desirable position of guaranteeing that I won't be happy at all until my next appointment in 9 days. If I'm feeling sick, the pregnancy is probably fine, but I'm miserable because, well, I feel sick. And if I'm not feeling sick, I'm convinced that something is wrong, which also makes me miserable. Hence the guarantee.

S. and I have been repeating this conversation over and over for the past 2 days:

me: "I feel so sick and crappy."
S: "I'm so sorry."
me: "No you're not. Liar."

Poor guy. It turns out that there is no response to "I feel so sick and crappy" that doesn't get him glared at.

Today is 9w5d. Next appointment is at 11 weeks even.

Things We're Not Doing

Even though things are going well (two pink lines? check! heartbeat? check! fatigue and nausea? check and check!) I can't quite shake the fear that something might go wrong. S. and I have several times mentioned things that we will eventually have to do to prepare for a baby, then quickly agreed that it is much too early to do anything yet (there's been lots of talk about the counting of chickens and their yet-to-be-hatched eggs). Among the things that we are completely avoiding at the moment (me, so that I don't "jinx" anything, and less-superstitious S. because, well, I think that he just doesn't want to):

• Telling anybody we're pregnant. Including our parents. Including my brother, who told me about each of A's pregnancies when she was only 5-6 weeks along.
• Discussing names. I've started glancing at baby names books in stores, but can't bring myself to buy one yet. As a result, I've started to tell S. that I think "Huckabee" is a pretty name for a little girl.
  
• Looking into buying a new car (which we will eventually have to do, because no way I'm carrying a child in the old, tiny little death traps we're currently driving).
• Emptying out the "library," which will eventually be converted into a nursery, but will first need to be emptied of several hundred books. (For the record, emptying out that room could easily fill 6 months or more of our weekends, so we really can't afford to stall on this one for very long.)
• Thinking at all about what we will need to purchase (crib, clothes, car seat, etc.).
• Child care. Since I plan to go back to school after a one quarter maternity leave, we will eventually have to figure out child care. Day care? Nanny? Sharing care with a friend? Dunno....
• Religious rituals. There's a good 50% chance that we won't have much say in this. If it's a boy, there's no question that we will have a bris, and since it happens on day 8, it would have to happen locally. We will have to pick a mohel, though... not that we have any experience with that. If it's a girl, we have more flexibility, and thus have more decisions to make. Naming ceremony at our (local) synagogue, and hopefully a few family members can fly in for it? Or wait a few months until we fly to visit my family, and then have my childhood rabbi do it at my parents' synagogue, like my brother did for his daughter? Dunno....

So, yeah.... Originally, I put all these things off until after our ultrasound. With that behind us... I'm thinking we should wait until the end of the trimester. Even though it seems silly.

Still Waiting

Still in the 2ww, with no news. My nipples hurt, I'm nauseous on and off through the day, I've had a series of bad headaches, and my temp is still up. Anyone else would say that, at 10dpo, these were all signs of pregnancy, but I had the same exact symptoms last cycle just from the increased hormones, so I'm not counting my chickens. I am glad to be home, where I can feel sick in the comfort of my own house, but mostly I'm just counting time until I know something definite. And reading holiday cards from all of our friends, as they recount the details of their growing children and newly-announced pregnancies.

Blech

Quick update from the in-law's house. I've been feeling tired and, most notably, nauseous, for the past several days. I'm carrying candied ginger around with me everywhere I go, and sucking on piece of it usually calms my stomach enough to keep me from throwing up. It's been particularly bad today, which has made it interesting, since we don't want to say anything to S's family.

I'm also still not positive that I've ovulated yet. The trigger shot was Monday, and I felt like I ovulated late Tuesday, but this morning (Saturday) was the first morning that my BBT was up at all, and that was just barely. Keeping my fingers crossed that everything is going well.

Egg On Its Way

The IUI was yesterday. Dr. M. had to use a tenaculum to "get traction" on my cervix, which, in addition to sounding rather disturbing, hurt like crazy and had me doubled up in pain (and spotting) for the rest of the afternoon. Last night, as I was going to bed, I felt a sudden, sharp pain from my left ovary, and this morning I can feel the "fullness" easing up, so I think that I might have actually felt myself ovulating. I'm still a little nauseous (from the trigger shot?) but feeling loads better than the past few days. Quite a relief, since maybe I'll be feeling close to normal by the time we leave for Christmas. In the mean time, nothing to do but down folic acid and wait.

Probably Not...

I took a HPT this morning (approximately 11-12 dpo) and it was negative. My BBT also dropped a bit this morning, compared to the last week, so I'm not feeling all that confident about this cycle. I've been feeling increasingly crampy all day as well, and I've had a persistent headache since yesterday afternoon, all of which seems to point to my period starting soon. (But, as S. and I keep pointing out to each other, since I've never been pregnant, I don't actually know what early pregnancy feels like, so what do I know?)

For now, there's nothing I can do other than wait. Dr. M. had suggested waiting until Tuesday or Wednesday to take a HPT, so I'll plan on taking another one then (anything's possible, right?). But, if this cycle really has already failed, I'd rather just get it over with and move on to the next one. If my period starts in the next day or two, we might still have time to do another IUI before we leave for Christmas.