Ugh... balance issues!

Last night I tripped on my way up the stairs to our apartment. I didn't fall, but I doubled over front-wise pretty hard before catching myself. My belly hurt at impact, felt weird to compress it so much, but afterward seemed okay. Gertrude definitely didn't like being squished!

Even so, I am the paranoid type, so I called my OB's office to try to talk to the doctor on call. Turns out my own doctor (Dr. K.; I rotate through the three in the practice - Dr. K. is my primary OB, but it was Dr. P. who scolded me about the fast food last week) was the one on call, which was nice. She said not to worry, only to contact her again if I started cramping and/or bleeding. I haven't experienced either so it probably really is fine.

I felt silly calling, but it's so hard, since I can't feel the baby yet, to know everything's really okay... and my next appointment isn't until after New Year's... come on baby, just kick me already!

Oh yeah, and I'm already clutzy by nature (DH jokes about my "balance issues" all the time), so today I went online and bought a pairs of flat-heeled boots, because the ones I tripped in have heels. They're only 1 3/4" but that's high for me; at 6'0" tall I normally wear flats but they were the only boots I could find last winter in 13N -- oh how I dread my feet getting any bigger than they already are, it's hard enough to find shoes that fit as it is! And while I had no trouble getting used to the heels last year, this time around it's a whole new ball game. If I'm already unsteady on my feet at 17 weeks... ugh, I just don't want to trip or fall again!

Busted!

All went well at my doctor's appointments yesterday... except for one thing. I got busted by my OB for eating too much "fast food." This is ironic, since in my pre-pregnancy days, I was known, especially at work, for my uber-nutritious lunches. Well, with the advent of my all-day morning sickness (not so much nausea as overall malaise, headaches and indigestion), much of my interest in healthy food disappeared. This interest in yogurt, tomatoes, baby carrots, apples and salads was replaced by cravings for pizza, EggMcMuffins and Whoppers w/cheese. Mind you, I don't eat these "horrible" things at every meal, but a quick check at my debit card statements show that I've been averaging trips to Burger King or McDonald's twice a week. Before getting pregnant, it was more like twice a month, if that.

But to be perfectly honest, it's worse than that. DH and I often eat pizza for dinner. I've been so tired when I get home from work, and usually ravenous, such that I haven't had patience for cooking, so popping a frozen pizza in the oven, or picking up something on the way home was the easiest (read: lazy) thing to do. And, to top it all off, it's the fatty, salty, greasy things that seem to please my pregnant digestive system the most.

The rub is that my bad eating habits were revealed when I asked the doctor why I might be getting headaches and feeling ill shortly after eating. My OB asked if I ate any fast food, so I confessed. I tried to tell her that the food giving me headaches isn't the EggMcMuffin or the Whopper. I can't really put my finger on which foods are the worst, but lately even eating plain oatmeal with a sprinkling of Craisins makes me feel a little headachy and ill later. Or apples. Or sweet things. It just seems like nothing sits right. Ugh.

Anyway, the doc is right. I shouldn't be eating that stuff, and, so far, I've quit cold turkey (LOL, it's only been one day; ask me again in a week). Maybe the effect of all the bad stuff is making everything difficult on my digestive system... who knows?

But otherwise, I got to hear the baby's heartbeat again (fleetingly though, as Dr. P started asking me questions while I was trying to listen), and everything seems okay. Had blood drawn to test my AFP levels (to detect neural tube defects), and saw my cardiologist later in the afternoon. All is well (won't get the test results back for a couple of weeks though).

So, dinner tonight: homemade chicken Caesar salad (with organic Caesar dressing). Maybe not the best choice, but an improvement, I hope!

Gertrude the Bump: Part II

So here's Gertrude at 16 weeks, as compared to 13 weeks. Not super different size-wise, but I'd say the bump is more well-defined now. No more bloat, it's all baby now (well and my stomach and other miscellaneous schmushed-up organs).

Birth plan conundrum

Tomorrow I go back to my OB for my 16-week appointment. Since it's almost time for me to register for birthing classes, one of the things I want to talk about with my doctor is birthing options. Seems so early to be thinking of these things, as I'm still getting used to the idea of being pregnant. But, I saw on the web yesterday that some classes may start up as soon as just after New Year's, so I shouldn't miss this chance to talk.

I think my big question for the doctor tomorrow is: does my having chronic hypertension preclude me from going through a vaginal (and possibly un-medicated) birth? I know there are risks of pre-eclampsia (and I have fibroids so there's also the risk of pre-term birth), but if these complications don't arise, is there any reason I can't try for a vaginal non-medicated birth?

Now, I'm not 100% saying I want a non-medicated birth, but for some reason the thought of having an epidural scares me more than the pain of childbirth (similarly, I was also more spooked by the idea of needing a cervical CVS than by either an abdominal CVS or amnio, so I am super glad I didn't have to go there). I don't have a fear of needles, per se, but something about having one stuck in my spine kind of freaks me out, despite the relief it is supposed to bring.

I have no idea how much pain tolerance I have. So on some level I feel challenged to see if I can take it, and due to my competitive nature, I can totally see myself psyching myself up to get through it as a personal rite of passage. Reminds me of the days when I was on the rowing team back in college. Some practices were brutal, when we pushed ourselves to our physical limits to see how fast and how hard we could pull on an oar. I'm sure it was nothing like the experience of childbirth, but it's my one marker for my own ability to willingly endure pain. And yes, I often referred to myself as a masochist during that time.

But, then, I'm not 19 anymore. Wow, it was THAT long ago... sheesh! I'm in nowhere near the shape I was back then. What am I thinking??

Anyway, I've been curious about the Bradley method, seems like an approach to a med-free childbirth that doesn't just teach you how to breath, but how to get your whole body (and partner) ready for the process of delivering a baby. I kind of wonder if going through Bradley training, which runs for 12 weeks, would help me get in better mental and physical shape such that my body would be better able to withstand the stress and maybe mitigate the need for intervention. Maybe the Bradley method itself isn't the answer, but now I'm a bit more motivated to see what I can do to prepare. Can prepping for childbirth be likened to training for a race, or endurance test? I'd like to get ready for it, if I can.

If there are any mothers out there reading this, I hope I don't sound hopelessly naive! Just trying to wrap my head around the unfathomable. It's kind of overwhelming, trying to sort out all the options and figuring out what will be right for me. And I know birth plans are just that, plans, and ones that may need to be revised (or scrapped outright) in the moment. At the same time, I'd feel better having one, so if options are available, I'll know what I want.

Sorry to be MIA

I suppose there's something to be said that "no news is good news." I've not posted because I haven't really had any updates, and have been tired enough that I couldn't think of anything witty to post.

On Monday I go for my 16-week OB appointment, so I'm looking forward to that... especially to have a chance to hear baby's heartbeat again, and know everything's still okay. I have no reason to think otherwise (symptoms continue, somewhat muted, but not completely abated --- come on, when's this Second Trimester Honeymoon gonna start?! --- and my belly, while not getting all that much bigger, is definitely changing shape and firming up), but well, I've got the kind of personality that looks for things to worry about. I cannot wait for the baby to start making his/her presence known in a palpable way... I don't need a Gostkowski (or Vinatieri) field goal attempt, but a punt or two every now and then from my future Patriots kicker would be reassuring.

And before you get all Nancy Drew and go "Team Blue!" on me... NO, I have NOT A CLUE whether the avocado-sized possibly future athlete I'm carrying is a girl-type baby or a boy-type baby... they'll be drafting women to the NFL by 2032, won't they? Yeah, I'm not holding my breath either.

While I have no strong wish for my child to be a professional athlete (unless that's what the babe wants), it is pretty neat to think about what this child will end up deciding to be when she/he grows up. It's easy to forget sometimes, when you're focused on the here and now and soon-to-be, that this is a whole new life waiting to happen. Cool!

Yikes! I think I'll go back to worrying about whether there's a heartbeat now.

"Brown Saturday"

Can I coin this term? I didn't dare venture out on Black Friday, as I have little patience (and nowhere near the energy right now) for traffic, crowds or long lines. Instead, I decided to try my luck this morning and get in some birthday and Secret Santa shopping (DH and two of his sisters have birthdays coming up soon). I was amazed at a) how reasonable the traffic and crowds were, and b) how quickly I was overwhelmed by fatigue. I only went to two stores, but found myself resting in my parked car between stops. [Okay, I admit that's partially because it gave me an excuse to listen to more of my latest book on CD, Dan Brown's Angels and Demons. I'm about two-thirds of the way through and the action's getting pretty intense right now --- and I haven't seen the movie, so please don't spoil it for me!] I guess I'm still recuperating from Thanksgiving day, but it's probably also due to the fact that I was banned from exercise for a few weeks by my OB due to spotting (which has fully subsided now).

Anyhoo... one of the stores I stopped in was Babies 'R Us. The last time I was there (when I was about 9 weeks along), my visit was cut short and panicked as I discovered I was spotting heavily when I went to use the restroom. This time all was well (except for the fact that only the kiddie stall had any toilet paper -- I alerted Customer Service), and I spent as much time as energy allowed browsing through... well, everything. It was my first time in there shopping as an expectant mom (ooh!) and whoa was it overwhelming... but in a good way.

Two thoughts occurred to me after my reconnaissance visit:

1) Searching for a stroller already feels like buying a new car. We will seriously need to test drive and find one that will be comfortable for my and DH's 6' tall frames (and a car seat that will fit in the back seat of my Matrix; I worry this will be a problem since the front seats are set all the way back to accommodate our long legs).

2) This child will probably have his or her own real furniture (with a capital F) before DH and I will (we do have a new bed and a new china cabinet/buffet -- wedding gifts -- but otherwise all of our furniture is still the hodge-podge of hand-me-downs and random dorm room-esque acquisitions). However, there's one caveat: I've suggested we get a real couch since my futon-couch is not really cutting it now that my pregnant butt is spending much time convalescing on it in the evenings, usually watching old NCIS episodes.

Thanksgiving success

Yesterday DH and I went to his father's for dinner. For me, it was no ordinary Thanksgiving, as DH's dad had invited my parents too... all four of them. The only other time my mother, father, stepmother and stepfather had ever successfully spent an extended time all together was at our wedding seven months ago, and while I'd been delighted then beyond belief, I never imagined there would be a repeat performance.

In all, we had a table set for 14: me and DH, DH's dad and stepmother, my mom and stepfather, my father and stepmother, DH's paternal grandparents, my two sisters, DH's sister, and DH's stepsister. Lost yet?

We ate lots, watched football (yay Pats!) and got along great. I'm so proud of my parents; they're finally all growed up!

And I have to say, there's something to be said for being pregnant when you're family is together and everyone's psyched about it. While I felt like one of the hosts, and wanted to make sure that my side of the family was comfortable and settled in well after they arrived, very soon it seemed that everyone was making sure I was comfortable. I didn't have to take a "No, thank you" helping if I didn't want one, and no one was offended if I didn't finish everything on my plate (or if later I wanted seconds, or thirds). I could sit on the couch, put my feet up, and people brought me pillows. Everyone kept asking if I was feeling okay. Yes, I'll admit, I basked in the attention. Looks like my Pregnancy Rewards card is starting to pay dividends.

I had been wary of how the day would go; it would be a really long day (3 hour drive each way) and I didn't know which foods my tummy would tolerate and which it wouldn't. So it was great, and very helpful, to be reminded to pace myself and rest, especially, since I was so excited to see everyone, I felt at times I wanted to be in several places or conversations at once.

Overall, I did pretty well yesterday. I think my first trimester "sickness" symptoms are starting to wear off. I had to eat something substantial every couple of hours (had oatmeal in the morning when we got up, then a BK Croissan'wich while on the way there, then hors d'oeuvres, dinner, dessert, a turkey-and-cranberry sauce-on-toast sandwich just before we left, and a granola bar on the way home). I was glad to have managed to slip two "pigs in blankets" past my pregnancy radar before remembering they were mini hot dogs and therefore contraband -- oops, but yumma! I started to feel tired and a little headachy on the way home, but I was amazed to not feel too ill even though it was way past my bedtime. A Thanksgiving well played!

The best thing of all was getting to spend the holiday with my family (all parts of it, old and new, and all at once -- well, almost; DH's mom was with his other sisters several states away), and to have something wonderful to be thankful for and celebrate with them. It was a truly joyful day, and I am beyond grateful for it.

30-day blog challenge

So, I thought I'd try joining the 30-day blog challenge I came across when surfing other mommy-to-be and mommy blogs the other day. This particular challenge doesn't require a blog post every day, but we should strive for at least five days a week. I thought it might be a nice way to step up my game a bit and post about more than just my latest pregnancy update -- you know, maybe include a little about my thoughts about finally becoming a mother, or reflections on my TTC journey, or more notes about random silly stuff I find in life, or on the internet.

And so, it begins.

My bump has a name

Yes, that's right. My sister texted me a few weeks ago and asked if I had a bump yet, but she typed "yet" as "yetttt" (in Textese) and it got auto-corrected on her iPhone as Gertrude (???), so the text read "Do you have a bump Gertrude"... so from then on that's what we started to call it.

So, now it is my pleasure to introduce to you Gertrude the Bump, making her internet debut at 13 weeks!

PS. I can pretty much hide my bump under baggy sweaters, and can still button my coat, so it will be a while before I can really use it as a Pregnancy Rewards card.

Hopefully when I finally have a bump...

...I won't get Sir'ed as much any more - Gah!

Okay, so I'm tall. Six feet, to be exact. And cashiers are notorious for saying "Can I help you?" or "Will there be anything else?" before making eye contact. So I occasionally find myself the victim of a sales clerk's faulty assumption that anything that casts a large shadow over them must be male. "Can I help you, Sir?" usually gets no reaction from me (or a reaction where it's probably a good thing they didn't see it), so they are forced to actually look up and realize their folly.

Last night, though, I was at Chipotle (my BFF of fast-food restaurants these days: high carb content + stomach-friendly legumes and veggies = happy pregnant camper) and got Sir'ed by this girl. But when she looked up at me, she didn't seem to get that she'd made a mistake. I certainly gave her a quizzical look, kind of expecting some sort of reaction, but maybe she either didn't catch her mistake or figured it was best to move on and fuhgedaboudit. Of course then two thoughts ran through my head:

1) Do I look overly androgynous today? At which point I made sure to put my "man-purse" flagrantly on the counter as I rifled to find my wallet... and as I think about it now, that could have backfired (I have had to come to terms that the reason I'm finding more and more stilettos in my size online is more due to drag queens than evolutionary genetics)...

And,

2) Oooh, maybe once I get a real bump this won't happen to me any more (or at least for a few months of my life I can feel unambiguously female)!

But then again, maybe they'll think it's just a beer gut.

Such a sweet sound

Got to listen to the baby's heartbeat at my 12-week OB appointment yesterday. Dr. K held the doppler on my abdomen for a good 15 seconds or so. Seemed like such a long time compared to the two or three beats we heard at the NT scan last week. Such an amazing sound, yet still so incomprehensible to me. Fascinating. I can see why people buy dopplers to listen to the heartbeat at home. I'm tempted to do it, but I don't think I will. Plus, DH would think I'm ridiculous. But my next appointment isn't for another four weeks, and I doubt I'll be able to feel the baby kick before then, so the next month will be a true test of patience.

My plan is to "out" myself publicly at Thanksgiving, but my mini bump may have other ideas. I'm hoping I can keep up the disguise at work for another week, but I'm noticing that my belly is pushing at the insides of even my baggiest sweaters. It's kind of mirage-like, depending on how I move it's "now you see it, now you don't." So maybe I will accessorize with a clipboard or files when I walk around the office over the next few days.

In other news:

1) I'm home sick from work today, having developed a sore throat over the weekend and feeling a bit run down today. I went to a wedding last weekend, staying overnight in NYC along with some of DH's family (FIL's goddaughter got married), and I think I overdid it. I usually crash at home by 6:30 pm and that's the time the ceremony began. Ate lots of good food, but probably too much of a random mix. And then the hotel bed was as hard as a rock. Ah well, I still had a blast!

2) Being home today serves another convenient purpose -- now I don't have to lug a big orange jug around with me at work all day. Yup, it's time to produce that 24-hour urine sample. Fun times. Just have to make sure DH doesn't think I got him a new drink to try (I have to store it in the refrigerator).

3) Got my flu shot yesterday. Had the sore throat before the shot, so I hope they don't compound one another. But so far I only feel a little bit of soreness where the needle went in (which I didn't feel at all).

And now, it's nap time.

Just a pic...

Finally got the ultrasound scanned from Tuesday's appointment, so here it is! It's cute that the tech labeled this image "BABY." I'm pretty sure it's the baby's arms wiggling around in front of it's face (head to the right).

First Trimester Screening Results

Went for my NT ultrasound this morning... and all seems to be well! I'll cut to the chase and go over the numbers first, then add some flavor text at the end about our doctor's visit:

Since I already had blood work done previously, the genetic counselor was able to go over the numbers with us right away.

The nuchal fold at the back of the baby's neck measured 1.3 mm (totally normal), and they were able to locate the nasal bone.

Combining these physical results with the blood work (or something), they came up with the following assessment:

The baby's risk for Down Syndrome is 1:1,461 (way down from my initial risk of 1:74 due to my age).

The baby's risk for Trisomies 13 or 18 is 1:2,521 (down from 1:127).

Very reassuring numbers all around!

Since these results are so good, DH and I have decided to forego the CVS test. If something shows up on the Level II ultrasound (now scheduled for January 4), then we might opt for an amnio. But with these great numbers, we don't want to take the risk of doing an invasive test.

Talk about a big sigh of relief! I was really not looking forward to the CVS test. Call me strange, but for some reason getting a catheter threaded up my "hoo ha" is not on my "must do" Bucket List. The thought of being stuck with a really big needle in my abdomen is slightly more palatable, but really I'd much rather avoid either if I can, especially due to their risk of causing a miscarriage.

Some other notable things I learned at today's trip to the perinatologist:

1. My bladder is smaller than a Poland Springs water bottle. I drank the obligatory 24 ounces of water on my way to the appointment. But by time I got there, I already felt I had to pee like a racehorse. I begged the receptionist to let me get rid of some of it, which helped immensely (but oh, how hard it was to stop mid-empty!). I made it through the ultrasound with the tech all right, though I had to do Kegels every time she pressed down hard on my abdomen. Thing is, she wouldn't let me go to the restroom after she was done. "I'm going to get the doctor now and he needs to see you with a full bladder." Oh dear. Well, that didn't work so well. It took him almost a half of an hour to appear, so by about 15 minutes I was in pain. I urged DH to go ask if I could let some more go, and luckily he found someone who showed me the nearest bathroom. Now, if you thought it was hard to stop peeing the first time I went... I don't know how I managed this second time! But, luckily, I was able to keep enough liquid in there for the doctor to get the view he needed. Note to self: a 12-ounce bottle should be fine next time!

2. Apparently I am one of the 6.8 billion (human) freaks of nature inhabiting the earth. Talking to the genetic counselor today, I learned that I have a chromosomal abnormality, a paracentric inversion of chromosome 12. Basically it means that part of the chromosome is upside down (part of the long part of the chromosome), and on only one of the pair. What does this mean? As far as I can tell, not much. Since I'm fairly healthy overall, whatever got messed up in me hasn't manifest, and it doesn't look like it will affect the baby at all, either. What might be affected in the future, is conceiving future children, because if my inverted half of chromosome 12 is the one in my eggs, then it will have to do a flip to match up with DH's half of chromosome 12. I think. I may have totally botched that explanation, but even if it's not accurate the gist of it is true: my chromosome 12 needs to be good at gymnastics.

As for the "freaks of nature" comment above, that stems from a conversation I had with a friend today where she surmised that, likely, all of us have something screwy going on in our genetic makeup, but for the large part of us, it doesn't affect us in any tangible way.

3. I suffer from visions of grandeur. My perinatologist (i.e., high risk doctor) wants me to provide a 24-hour urine sample (due to my hypertension, they want a baseline of my kidney function for future reference). So they provided me with a rather large orange jug, in which I am to collect ALL of my urine during a 24 hour period of my choosing. Well, after the episode earlier where I was convinced that Niagara Falls was going to spew from my bladder, and knowing that I have always had to use the bathroom frequently throughout the day and night (even before getting pregnant), I thought that maybe one of these jugs wasn't enough. And since they said I needed to collect everything, I asked whether I needed a second jug. The nurse looked a little skeptical, but gave me a second one anyway. I soon became extremely self-conscious walking through the office hallways with two jugs, not the least because it seemed all of the staff were giggling at me (they were nice enough not to outright laugh). Okay, so maybe I won't need to pee all that much, but how should I know?! Stay tuned... ;)

Sorry for the uber-long post, but a lot happened today! I'll scan and post the new ultrasound pic tomorrow if I can.

NT scan tomorrow

Not much to report for this week, thankfully! Spotting has taken a hiatus (hopefully a long one), and I essentially just spent the week battling with food. Most of the time, the food won. I see food I like, and then it tastes great while I eat, but then somehow something goes wrong. Indigestion, headaches, sometimes nausea (though I'll admit nausea attacks are fewer and farther between). Pizza and Egg McMuffins are my BFFs right now. Luckily so is my daily oatmeal. I think that is the most nutritious thing I am eating, so I hope it packs a punch.

Anyway, tomorrow or Wednesday I'll have a bigger update, as Tuesday morning I'll go for my NT scan. Depending on the results (they've already done the blood work so we'll know our odds right away), we may stop there, or I might have the CVS done in the afternoon. I'd really rather avoid invasive testing. But if there's anything uncertain or high risk in the results, we'll do it.

So if you have any prayers and/or positive healthy baby vibes to spare, please send them our way!

Week 10: Baby is the size of...

... a hot dog. Well, not really. This week my baby is supposed to be the size of a prune... err, excuse me, dried plum.* But in my travels through cyberspace this past week, I happened across an image of a baby in a hot dog costume.** I know that comparing my new inhabitant's size to that of widely accessible food products is supposed to help me understand how its growth is progressing, but somehow the notion of a baby slathered in ketchup and mustard, cradled in a toasted bun just seems wrong. As in Jonathan Swift's satiric yet "modest" proposal wrong.

At the same time, it's making me hungry (and the costume IS kind of cute, in a disturbing sort of way). Well, as hot dogs are off limits too, I guess I'll go make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead. Baby's bigger than a peanut by now, I think. So I should be safe.

Happy Halloween!

*Apparently prunes are undergoing an image makeover, in an attempt to broaden their consumer base beyond those of Advanced Constipated Age. So now they preferred to be called The Fruit Formerly Known As Prune.

**The picture above is not the picture I saw earlier this week, but for the life of me I cannot find it. I think the actual costume that struck my eye was made by Gymboree, but their website only shows it empty. :(

And... we're okay!

Called the doctor's office as soon as they opened and was able to be seen in fairly short order. My regular doctor (Dr. K.) is out on Thursdays (it's the day she does surgery), but since I will rotate through the other doctors in the practice throughout the pregnancy anyway, I was just glad that someone could see me today. Today it was Dr. P. She's awesome (and, by the way, I love it that all the physicians in the practice are female).

So, it does seem that the bleeding is all due to the second sac resolving itself -- being reabsorbed, squashed out by the thriving fetus, whathaveyou. I just hadn't expected to experience this much bleeding (this morning when I woke up, it was like being surprised by getting my period). Dr. P. said she can't tell me how long to expect the bleeding to go on for, but she showed me that the second sac is much smaller than the healthy one, whether through its own dissolution or because the other one continues to grow, or both. Eventually though, it should disappear.

Otherwise, cervix looked good, which was very reassuring, and the baby looks great. Saw the heartbeat again, and the baby jiggled around a little while we watched. It wasn't waving its arms as much as the last time, but what amazed me this time was how much more developed it seemed, even after only three days! On Monday, it looked more blob-like, but today, I think you can see one of its eyes, and maybe its face! And the hands and feet seem more dense, if that's the right word. I might be imagining all this, but see for yourself:

I am fascinated, much relieved and, definitely, in love. Both today and on Monday the baby measured two days ahead of its due date (May 28), but since it's only two days, Dr. P. didn't want to change the EDD.

Next up: NT Scan on November 9, and next OB visit on the 15th. Really hoping I don't have to go back to the doctor before either of these dates, though Dr. P. said that if anything comes up, or I needed reassurance, I shouldn't hesitate to call them and come in. I am so glad they are cool like that!

A bit scared...

Went to the doctor on Monday morning to follow up on the spotting I'd experienced over the weekend. Turned out everything was fine. Heartbeat good and baby measured another two days ahead of where it was last week, and I got to see it wiggle its wee arms for a second or two.

And, better yet, the spotting had stopped. Petered out by Monday afternoon, and nothing Tuesday or Wednesday.

Until this morning, when I woke up to go to the bathroom an hour before my alarm was to go off and found that I was, not spotting, but bleeding. Oh God.

So I'm on my way to my doctor's office. They don't open until 9, but I plan to call them from their parking lot and see if they can see me. I'm cramping just a little bit off and on.

I hope this is not what I fear it is. Thoughts and prayer would be appreciated. I'll keep you posted.

Six months ago today...

...DH and I got married. Saturday, April 24, 2010, Cape Cod, Massachusetts. We lucked out with beautiful weather (mid-60s and hardly a cloud in the sky). I had been incredibly stressed trying to get everything ready, but when I woke up the morning of, it was like none of that mattered (well, okay, maybe not right when I woke up, as I still had to finish composing the Prayers of the Faithful, but as soon as that was done I was able to relax). I put it all aside in my head and thoroughly enjoyed myself. It really was the perfect day.

Originally when I thought of our six-month anniversary, I imagined either going out for a nice dinner, or better yet, cooking a delicious meal and laying it all out on our new china and crystal. One of these things may still happen, but my morning sickness is persuading me toward take-out. We could still use the good plates and glasses, though.

And if we don't go out, then maybe we might go through our photographer's pictures, and start trying to figure out which ones we'd want in an album. For now, since DH is still sleeping, I'll content myself with looking at the slideshow our photographer put together for us. Have a look too, if you'd like. The background music is our First Dance song, "Ice Cream" by Sarah McLachlan (DH proposed to me by carving "Will you marry me" in a tub of Friendly's Vienna Mocha Chip).

Week 9: As the Twin Vanishes

So now that my due date moved up a day (up meaning earlier, or is that "back"? I always get that confused), it means that my gestation week switches on Saturdays, not Sundays. And it seems too, that I don't get around to updating the blog more than once a week, so it looks like Saturdays will works pretty well. I won't limit myself to once a week, but I'll make sure, at least, that I say something every Saturday!

Today has been a bit nerve wracking. Not long after waking up I found some more (and more significant) spotting... light red blood rather than the pale pink CM I'd seen previously. Only when I wiped, but it still worried me a little. I headed out to Babies-R-Us (in order to procure some B-Natal anti-morning sickness lollipops), but when I checked again at the rest room there, I saw more of the same spotting. So, rather than a leisurely hour of browsing cribs and baby clothes and generally "getting my Mom on" for the very first time, I quickly asked where the morning sickness stuff was hidden, grabbed a bunch, paid for it, checked for spotting in the rest room one more time, and then got in my car and called my OB's office. It wasn't a lot of blood by any means, and I wasn't cramping (yet, though I have been a bit since), but as it was more blood than I'd seen previously (and was blood this time, not just tinted CM)... and, well, it totally freaked me out.

The OB on call called me back a few minutes later; when my phone rang I was already making my way back home, so I pulled off the road to answer. I told her my story and she said probably it was the "vanishing twin" resolving itself, and, if it WAS more than that, there really was nothing anyone could do to stop it. So she suggested I take it easy for a few days (pelvic rest, nothing too strenuous, etc.), and call my doctor on Monday to see if they could see me next week to put my mind at ease. The spotting hasn't been as bad since, but has reappeared off and on throughout the day.

Edited to add: I wish I had thought to ask, or that my OB had come out with it on her own, how the vanishing twin would "resolve itself." [She didn't use the term "vanishing twin," but some surfing on the net showed me that this is pretty much what happened. The only major difference being that I didn't know I was carrying two until we saw that the second was already non-viable.] It would have been helpful to know ahead of time that I might experience some bleeding and cramping. While my 8-week ultrasound was affirming and joyful, it didn't really put my mind at ease at all. I've been more worried about the health of the living twin (and it's hard not to think of it as "1 of 2" now, even if the second fertilization never developed past a yoke sac) now that I know that two had been in there. Well, yeah, the spotting doesn't help.

Ugh. This is tough. I'm trying not to stress too much -- I know it's counterproductive, and likely this is all perfectly normal -- but it's hard not to worry. And DH and I are meeting with the genetic counselor on Monday to talk about testing, and that's all got me in a tizzy too (options, timing, what we would/wouldn't do with the results, etc.). I just want to know my little Gummy Bear is okay.

Houston, we have a heartbeat!

Great first prenatal appointment this morning! I was excited because (besides the obvious) it would be the first time I'd get to celebrate the news with my gynecologist, now obstetrician. I'd last seen her about two months ago at a pre-conception appointment where she'd sent me for my CD3 testing and gave me a referral to an RE. So it was sweet to see her and come for a pregnancy visit instead! DH was a trooper and joined me.

And... everything looks great. The baby is measuring a day ahead of where I thought it was. Through my charting on Fertility Friend, I thought I was at 8w1d, with an estimated due date (EDD) of May 29, 2011. The ultrasound showed 8w2d, and so my doctor put my EDD at May 28. I was glad that she listened to me when I told her that my cycles are/were on the shorter side (26 days) and that it looked like I ovulated on CD12, so the EDD based on last menstrual period (LMP) would be off by a few days... that EDD would be June 1. I know it's all guess-work anyway, and the baby will come when it comes, but well, it was nice to see all my obsessive charting not go to waste, at least.

The wild thing was that, after we got to see this cute little bean, my doctor told us that there was another sac, but there wasn't a viable baby in it. She showed it to us, and we could see that there was a yolk, but nothing else. It was surreal. In an instant I went from being pleasantly startled to wistfully sad. Pleasantly startled that it was even possible that I could have had twins, and wistful that it wasn't meant to be. The doctor said that it's unlikely that the second sac would interfere with the development of the first, which is great, but I can't help but wish a little that they both made it, or that there was only one to begin with. A mother's protective instinct starts early, I guess.

DH says that the baby looks like a Gummy Bear. It does seem to have some teddy bear-ish qualities, minus the poofy ears. If you look at the ultrasound picture, it's facing straight on, head to the left, showing little arm and leg buds, and even possibly the "belly button" and umbilical cord swinging below. I never thought I'd think of what I might see in an ultrasound image as being cute, but I can't help thinking this kid looks pretty cuddly.

Yup, I guess this kid's got me wrapped around it's little nubs of fingers already. I'm totally caught. Hook, line, and sinker.

Bass Ackwards

I think whichever of God's minions is in control of my morning sickness, he or she either slept through most of their training, or else has a sick sense of humor (no pun intended). I get it that morning sickness can happen at any time of day, so it's no big surprise that my morning sickness is actually more of an afternoon and evening deal. But I'd heard that eating is supposed to help, and I even read once that maybe one of morning sickness' purposes is to steer a mother clear of unhealthy foods.

Which is why I don't get why I feel worse after eating lunch, and even worse after dinner. Or why I had no trouble after gingerly snarfing a Whopper Jr., small fries and a small Sprite, but felt all kinds of gassy indigestion after eating yogurt, an apple, and a granola bar. Shouldn't I be reeling after ingesting all the greasy fast food, rather than the low fat healthy snacks?

I'm sure veteran mommies out there are probably smiling knowingly, or else outright pointing and laughing at my noobishness. Eventually, I'll learn. I'm lucky that the smell of food doesn't repulse me. I like eating. It's just that eating doesn't seem to like me.

Is it naptime? Yes, I think it is.

Coming up next: Ultrasound at first appointment on Monday morning... stay tuned!

The Week in Review: 10-9-10

I spent half of last week riding 2500+ miles in a tractor trailer, voluntarily.* Why, you ask? You mean other than the obvious (that I must be a masochist)? I was on the truck acting as an art courier, tasked with making sure that a bunch of crates packed with loaned art made its way safely back to its owners. The museum I work for organized this traveling exhibition, and as the current Registrar-in-Charge (well, technically, I'm not anymore, as my boss is now back from maternity leave) it was my job to make sure all the return shipping was arranged and everything got back to the lenders where it belonged. Fun times full of mental gymnastics. Reminds me of why I loved doing logic problems as a kid. Yup, masochist. *The truck you see above is the actual tractor trailer.

The road trip was uneventful, for the most part. The drivers were friendly and the truck was pretty well tricked out; all I can say is, thank God it had a toilet on board (I am convinced I have a bladder with compartments)! The flat screen satellite television was a nice touch as well.

Warning: this next section contains some pregnancy-related TMI.

I did freak out a bit on Tuesday (day 2; we left Monday afternoon) when I discovered some pink spotting upon using a truck stop rest room. A short time later I experienced some cramping that was stronger than normal, but it lasted only about a minute or so. The spotting continued on and off through Thursday afternoon, though the stronger cramps never made a repeat appearance - whew!

I've been off the truck since Thursday, and haven't had any spotting since - YAY! I also called my doctor's office yesterday (Friday) morning, just to be on the safe side, and they sent me to get blood drawn for an hCG beta and to check my progesterone level. Had pretty much given up hope that I'd get results when the doctor-on-call finally rang me, an hour after the office had closed (very sweet of her)! The numbers:

hCG: 51,265

progesterone: 30

The doc said that these were really good numbers, indicating a nice and healthy pregnancy - YAY! I was so relieved that I forgot to ask her if it means anything that my progesterone number is lower than it was three weeks ago (it was 43.5 at 12 dpo), and I sort of wonder if I ought to do another beta to make sure things are still progressing at the right pace since the cramping on Tuesday.

BUT, the progesterone is still at a normal and healthy level, even if it's lower, so I think I might be all right with waiting until my first ultrasound on the 18th. I'm so tired after the past two busy weeks on the road I kind of don't feel like worrying too much right now. AND, I hear the level tends to fluctuate too. If there's any more spotting, though, I will be calling my doctor pronto!

In the meantime, I will try to enjoy the company of my new BFF, Morning Sickness (total misnomer: mine hits in early afternoon and kicks it with me for the rest of the day)! To be honest, though, feeling sick is actually the most reassuring thing of all...

Is it nap time yet?

Aunt Wars (or, the SciFi post)

I spilled the news to my sisters last weekend. They'd insisted (long ago) that whenever I got pregnant I had to tell them both at the same time. So, considering they are currently living on opposite sides of the country, the best I could do was see one in person and get the other on speakerphone. I'm surprised that I managed to pull it off without either getting a clue ahead of time. I haz mad skillz. :D

But within minutes of having absorbed the news (that is, after the screaming and general pandemonium died down - my ear drums are still recovering), they were already at it, competing with each other over who would be "The Coolest Aunt." It was fun to witness. And the sister I was visiting last weekend became instantly over-protective of me, getting chairs for me while waiting in line, holding me back from crossing the street before she checked for oncoming cars. While unnecessary (I've got a while before I start showing, I think, and I haven't been feeling too tired... yet), it was truly heartwarming to see my baby sister looking out for me.

As for the Aunt Wars, I say, bring 'em on. I figure I won't have to worry about spoiling this kid* (I think there's only one in here)... what with six aunts and seven grandparents (and don't get me started trying to count the numerous "greats"-- -aunts, -uncles, and -grandparents, etc.), they'll all probably have it covered.

But I did ask that they hold off a little bit before they start going crazy. Let's make sure this little one is in there first! 8-week ultrasound is still two and a half weeks away (October 18). Can't wait!

*At this point, though (5w4d), this "kid" supposedly looks more like a sentient jelly fish, so if my sisters want to war over this wee alien life form inside of me, more power to them. Call me Ripley.

This is starting to feel real...

...because I'm late -- woo hoo! (reminds me of the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland) -- and because finally got my beta test result from the doctor, and it's positive. 156 (hCG) positive, for 12 dpo. And my progesterone was 43 point something (.2 or .5 I think, didn't have a pen on me when I got the call). Sound like pretty good numbers to me. 'Course at this point I am 19 dpo (took the lab and doctor That.Long to get my results to me, which does give me some pause) and not lined up for any more tests so that'll have to do, I guess.

Now the doctor also said I shouldn't be trying to ride a tractor trailer across country next week, but hmmm... that's going to be a tricky one to dodge (it's for work, and was scheduled months ago). So I outed myself to the dispatcher tonight, and I hope she doesn't freak. I know the truck drivers are not going to appreciate having to stop every two hours so I can go for a 15-minute jaunt around the Flying J (because otherwise I'm apparently at risk of blood clots and possible miscarriage - fun stuff... not).

But I figure maybe better to give them a heads up than have to plead with them that my bladder is bursting and brave their glares. Ugh. Not looking forward to this...

Stay tuned for the fall-out.

Whoa.

So... yesterday* I was 10 dpo, and had woken up feeling crampy (and also the day before), my abdomen was feeling kind of tight and my BBs a little on the sore side (but less sore than the day before). So all day I'm thinking to myself, "ahhh... just another one of these new PMS symptoms. ho hum" (every cycle it seems something "different" happens, I get my hopes up, and... nada).

Anyway, I figured, as I can feel myself getting anxious, let me go home and pee and get this BFN over with... should cure my urge to POAS until AF shows up.

So I PIAC (pee in a cup), dip my Dollar Tree test, and I get...

...a BFP!!! What?!? No way!

So, I go get the First Response test I have kept hidden away... dip... and...

...another BFP!!! The lines are both really there, no squinting!

And just to be sure it wasn't a dream, I used a CBE digital this morning,* and it came up "Pregnant" pretty much right away. I'm so giddy and beside myself, it's like when DH asked me to marry him... I was running around in circles last night before DH got home... couldn't think straight!

DH and I kinda feel like this right now:

*Disclaimer: I have a confession to make: by "yesterday" I actually mean last Wednesday, September 15 (and "this morning" was Thursday the 16th). I posted what I wrote above on the TTC after 35 board, my usual stomping ground on The Bump. Since then, my week (and weekend) has been pretty much non-stop (work-wise and home-wise), and I've been meaning to get back on here and do a proper "announcement." And now that I'm sitting down to type, six days later, I'm at a loss for how to write a new announcement that sounds as fresh and immediate as that one had been. So I apologize being so slow to post this update, and for the cutting and pasting it. But now that the cat is out of the bag,** I promise to keep this blog up to date!

**Please note: [Yes, this is footnote within a footnote... think "Inception" minus most of the mental gymnastics] Well... in truth the cat is only partially out of the bag. DH and I are still in the process of telling our immediate family, and we won't make a public announcement to friends and coworkers for a few weeks yet. So if you're friends with me on Facebook, please please PLEASE keep this under wraps - thanks!!!

Horse Latitudes

No pun intended, but despite its true meaning, I get a lot of mileage out of this term. Literally, "horse latitudes" refers to the subtropical areas of the ocean that are characterized by light, variable winds mixed with periods of calm, balmy temperatures and little precipitation. Perfect beach weather, right? Well, not so if you're trying to propel a ship across the ocean... using sails.

The "urban legend" version of the story has it that Spanish ships carting horses to the Americas got stuck in these light to nonexistent winds, and that the crew had to throw cargo -- usually the horses -- overboard to lighten the load (this is the version I remembered from my college oceanography course - sick and twisted as it is). The more humane version of the story (thanks, Wikipedia) suggests that the horses weren't cast away unless they had already perished due to low rations. There's another, perhaps more accurate, derivation (Wikipedia's got that one too), but why ruin a good story?

In either case, I've adopted the term for my own use and apply it to any situation where I feel I'm stuck waiting... to get somewhere, to do something, or waiting for something to happen.

So it occurs to me that it's a perfect term for those middle days of the dreaded Two Week Wait -- when you're waiting until it's time to take a pregnancy test -- somewhere from around 4 - 9 dpo where there's really nothing to do but wait. I've got my cross-hairs, but it's still way too early to test. Staring at my chart just strains my eyes, because there's really nothing to see (well, maybe an implantation dip if I'm lucky, I suppose). I'm even wondering if there is any point to temping during these days. But of course there is... it gives me something to DO.

Granted I suppose there are other ways I could occupy my time (still have a bunch of boxes to unpack from our move last month, for example), rather than this nearly literal navel-gazing --or is that naval gazing, since we're working with a nautical metaphor here? -- but really, I think it's more masochistic than narcissistic. The pot take forever to boil, but you can't stop watching it.

8 dpo and counting...

:sigh:

A Cycle of Life

So, I had been all excited to come back from the trip to MIL's with a report of our success in the "taking advantage of my fertile window this cycle" department, but that's not the only (and by far the lesser) news of this past week.

As I mentioned in a previous post, DH and I went to visit his mom and his grandparents over the long holiday weekend. Officially, we'd gone down to celebrate Papa's Labor Day birthday, like we had last year. Unofficially, or rather, unbeknownst to Grandma, we were coming down to spend some special time with her, because she'd not been doing well at all. Her lung cancer had resurfaced, and she had entered a Hospice program, which signaled to us that time was short. Ever the stalwart, Grandma didn't want anybody to know, but Papa told us anyway.

We arrived late Friday night, and on Saturday and Sunday nights, DH, MIL, SIL (who made the trip down as well) and I went over to Grandma and Papa's for dinner. We brought everything for the meal: main course, salads, drinks, even down to the paper plates and cups that Papa refused to let us use. On Sunday night we added cake to the mix, and had an early birthday celebration for Papa, since SIL had to leave the next morning. It was a fun time, we chatted all evening and took pictures with Grandma in all possible familial combinations. We also helped her wrap her gift for Papa, a handsome green patterned tie, which she hadn't had a chance to wrap (since he was pretty much always with her). Then we said our good nights and went home. We left feeling somewhat relieved, as we grandkids had all expected Grandma to look like she was on death's door. Instead, she'd been pretty much her chipper, fiesty (and somewhat flirty) self.

So we were shocked when Papa called early the next morning saying that Grandma had died in her sleep.

The saddest thing is that she died on Papa's birthday, and they were due to celebrate their 66th wedding anniversary three days later. We made sure Papa opened the present we helped Grandma wrap the night before. It was a heart-wrenching moment when he realized who the present was from.

Luckily DH and I were able to switch our return flights, so we stayed an extra couple of days to help with the arrangements and to attend the funeral service on Wednesday.

DH and I have been together 8 years, though only married for four months now, so I've gotten to know his Grandma a bit. It was hard to see Grandma go, not the least because she is the fourth grandmother I have buried (my parents' parents are all deceased, and we lost one of my step-grandmothers earlier this year). It also was hard to see Papa look so lost without his life mate, which made me appreciate DH's presence in my life all the more. Amazing how the major events in the cycle of life reflect on each other; being born, growing up, finding a life mate, trying to conceive, raising a family, dying. They're all integral parts of one big whole.

R.I.P. Grandma S., we'll miss you.

Technical Difficulties... gah!

It appears that my free blogger design theme has disappeared, making my blog look all wonky. So please give me a moment to go fix this mess! :sigh:

Coming up... The Cycle of Life (or, My Week in Review).

Please stay tuned... and while you wait, here's a random clip from one of my favorite movies of all time (sorry, I tried to find the clip where they're in the elevator listening to the Muzak version of the "Girl from Ipanema", but apparently it's not YouTube worthy, psh!). I swear I had to point out that there was "lots of space in this mall" every time my mom and I went shopping as a kid... probably drove her nuts, but I suppose I felt it was my Mission from God to inform her of this fact.

Edit: And... we're back! Apparently Leelou Blogs had too many images on Photobucket so they switched to a new server while I was away --- and I almost missed the deadline for reformatting... whew!). More soon!

A great way to start the long weekend...

A brief update: I got a call from my gynecologist's office yesterday evening with my CD3 blood work results. Everything's normal!!! I was elated to hear the news... it's really taken a weight off my shoulders, as I was freaked out and afraid to test and get bad news. I asked for the numbers breakdown, and this is what I got:

FSH: 6.4
LH: 6.7
Thyroid: 1.480
Prolactin: 16

From what I've read, those are pretty darn good numbers (I'm especially excited about the low FSH number). I know those numbers may not mean much to many; I promise to start up a glossary soon!

In the meantime, DH and I are off to visit his mom and grandparents for the long weekend (which also happens to be "fertile time"... AWKWARD). Wish us luck, and Happy Labor Day!

"LEET (1337) speak" in TTC land...

When not focusing on trying to conceive, among other things, I'm a gamer. Specifically, I play Guild Wars, a Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game (or MMORPG). In quintessentially geeky fashion, we -- and by "we" I mean all gamers, I'm pretty sure it's not limited to just GW players -- often talk in code, with liberal use of insider slang, abbreviations and acronyms. We call it "'leet speak", or for the truly elite (hence 'leet) gamers, "1337 speak" (kind of like when you'd use a calculator to spell "HELLO" upside down with numbers - I told you it was geeky).

Well, apparently, there is also "'leet speak" in the (Usually) Dual-Player In-bed Role-Playing (if-that-sort-of-thing-works-for-you) Game that is TTC, and I got called out using it today... on the phone with the doctor's office.

My ob/gyn (Dr. K) recommended a fertility doctor (Dr. C) to me at my last visit a couple of weeks ago. So, this afternoon, on a whim (mostly because I was getting impatient waiting for my CD3 results), I picked up the phone and called Dr. C's number.

Receptionist: Doctor's office, may I help you?

Me: Hi, I'm a patient of Dr. K, and she suggested I give you a call. I'd like to make an appointment to see the RE.

[pause]

Receptionist: Well the doctors here specialize in helping people who are trying to conceive...

[pause, with crickets]

Me: um... oh, I'm sorry (???), I have a tendency to shorten things... yes, my gynecologist wants me to see a Reproductive Endocrinologist. That's what I meant by an 'R.E.' She wants me to see Dr. C."

After that awkwardness, things proceeded swimmingly. She took down my name and number, and told me that I'd either hear back from the coordinator/scheduler-type person within the next twenty minutes or first thing tomorrow morning. Nothing yet, so we'll see.

Okay, I'll give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she didn't hear me correctly. Honestly, though, I guess I was surprised that the folks (or this particular folk) at the doctor's office aren't more hip to the lingo.

Trying to conceive can seem like a game sometimes: you start out as a "noob" with Cycle 1 and "level up" (Cycles 2, 3, 4, 5, etc.), learn new skills (in the bedroom - *ahem* - and bathroom), acquire weapons that increase in power (thermometers and charts, pee sticks, OPK's, fertility monitors), go on quests (trips to doctors' offices, labs, drug stores), and, of course, battle monsters (mental as well as medical). And, hanging out on topic-specific message boards (like hanging out in towns reading chat in the MMORPG) can let you "level up" faster, at least in knowledge, if not necessarily in experience. So, while I have been only at this TTC thing for a few months, and had thought I was pretty noobish in comparison to other more seasoned members on the boards, I realized today that I've been soaking up a TON of info, and am, perhaps, more 1337 than I thought.

So I guess I gotta remember that not everyone hangs out on message boards, and that I'll have to turn my geek off sometimes. :P

This is it!

I did it. I made it. I'm 40 today. Happy Birthday to me! So, this is it, eh? Not much different from yesterday. I did not feel this super sinking feeling in my ute, seems just as it has always been. Yeah, sort of like Y2K... freaked out that the end of the world was coming, and then... nothing. Not even a cyber-fart.

So I'm going to continue to believe that every thing's okay in there, until proven otherwise. In the meantime, it's time to celebrate! Celebrate four decades of being me. Okay, so maybe I don't really want to celebrate all of it; there were certainly moments that I won't mind at all if they never make it into the "public record". But it's been a great ride so far. Looking forward to the next round.

I share my birthday with Michael Jackson, which has always been fun (and hence the nod to him in the image to the right). I also share it with my paternal grandmother, who would have been either 102 or 104 today (or maybe even only 101... she never did set the record straight). My grandmother and I shared a love for geometry and acting, and, I'm hoping I've inherited her fertility too. She had both my father and his older brother in her mid- to late- thirties, and my youngest uncle when in her mid to possibly late forties. I know fertility is not necessarily inherited, but well, it gives me comfort at least to know I come from a line of very fertile women. My maternal grandmother had 9 children. Granted, I am an only child, but I'd like to blame that more on social circumstances than biology (my parents split when I was 8).

I've not been particularly open about TTC with my mom yet, well, she knows we're not preventing, but maybe I should talk to her and see how actively my parents tried to have more children. But then again, that means I'd 1) have to admit to my mother that I have sex and 2) have to admit to myself that my parents had sex. Um, yeah. I might be forty, but there's a part of me that still feels about twelve.

Kitchen 'speriment #1: Green tea fail

Okay, so here's what I mean about being over-whatever --- over-anxious, over-zealous, over-analytical --- or, in this particular instance, over-DISTRACTED. I've just come back from doing laundry (we're in an apartment, so laundry is down three flights, out the door and around to the basement on the other side of the building) and I notice that it seems really hot in the apartment when I get back. Now, it's a GORGEOUS day outside, and while I only have one little fan on, I'm thinking the air outside should be cross-ventilating through.

I start hanging up hubby's and my long-sleeved shirts and when I get back to the living room I sniff and think, wow, they're really cooking up a storm downstairs. But then I think, hey, that's a really strong smell, and it's a burning smell. Wha-ha? It takes me a few passes through the apartment, but then I go in the kitchen and @#$!%* --- the front burner in on full blast, baking a pot* that used to have boiling water in it... oh, about an hour ago. I'd put water on to boil for some green tea when I came back from putting the clothes in the dryer (or was it the washer??)...

*Yeah, I have a tea kettle, but it's broken. Has some rust issues, and I'd prefer to get my iron dosages elsewhere, so until it's replaced, the tea gets boiled in a pot.

Anyway, now I've got to wait until the pot cools down so I can wash it. No green tea for me today, 'cos I'll take my prenatal vitamin at bedtime. Well, I might stay up past midnight, so I could still manage to pull it off.

See, I was thinking of drinking green tea this cycle, to see if it would help with CM (cervical mucus) production. But green tea inhibits the absorption of folic acid, so you don't want to drink green tea within four hours of taking folic acid supplements, or prenatal vitamins containing it. I've had a hard time coordinating drinking green tea with my vitamin schedule, since I take a 3-times-a-day supplement. But then I finished the bottle and got a one-a-day version, and just started them today. But I'm still not timing things right. It's silliness, and I get frustrated with myself for being silly and for, well, being me, sometimes. This wasn't supposed to be complicated. Ha!

T minus 1 and counting...

I might as well begin at the end... the end of my thirties, that is. If my mother knew I had this blog going, she'd probably be pretty upset to see me outing myself, because if I reveal how old I am, then her age is incriminated, by association... oops! When I'm with my mom (or either of my parents actually, dad's pretty ageless too) people often ask me "How's school going?" Granted, I did spend much of my adult life in grad school trying to major in, well, racking up degrees. So, in everyday social situations, it seems I can "pass" for late twenties or so.

At the doctor's office, however, the disguise is gone (enter Dorian Gray, minus the soul-selling stuff). I can't pretend that I'm 29 anymore, because there it is, right up at the top of the form, age 39. Well, tomorrow that will shift to the big Four-Oh. Forty. Okay, there. I said it. Forty. Quarante. XL. Hmmm... takes a little getting used to but, I guess it's not so bad. Yehright. I'm so not ready for this. Granted, it's more concise than thirty-nine / trente-neuf / XXXIX. Yeah, well, whatever. It's not like, if I could turn the clock back, I'd stop at 39 anyway. I guess it's just that I'm going to miss that leading 3. And for some reason hitting 40 seems like a big effing deal. Oh, right. I remember why. It's my eggs. They may not have gotten the "I'm still 29" memo.

I guess for now it's the fear of the unknown that's been getting to me. We've been trying to conceive since our wedding in April (or rather, I've been trying, and DH has been a willing participant - he's much more laid back about, well, most things in life, including having kids). Of course I have been hoping that we'd luck out and get pregnant without even needing to do any testing. But well, my ob/gyn said to come see her if nothing's happened after 3-4 months, which turns out to be right around my birthday. It's been 5 cycles and nada.

So, I went for my CD3 blood work yesterday. That should give me some indication whether I should even be anxious about my eggs. I have been really nervous about getting the tests done, because, well, I wonder if the results will make me more anxious rather than less. Here's to hoping I get good results and we can continue TTC the old-fashioned way!

My husband has a prescription for an SA (semen analysis) but we still need to make an appointment with a urologist for that (have some insurance stuff to work out). Luckily, hubby isn't squeamish about getting the test done, which I appreciate. He's "only" 31, and while that may not mean a thing fertility-wise, I'm hoping that his relative youth is a good thing.

How do I start?

Someone's actually reading this??? Wow, and... Welcome!

*blushing as I try to tidy up quickly*

The first words, at least for me, are always the hardest to come by. So, I suppose I'll start with an introduction. Hi! I'm Kiki, and I started this blog as a way to let off some steam as I begin my quest for motherhood. I've been inspired by other blogs I've enjoyed reading over the past year or so (especially the ones in the list to the right), but I just haven't felt I had much of a TTC story until now. And maybe I still don't, but I'm finally feeling the urge to write.

My husband and I have been married for almost four months (wow times flies!), and we started TTC on our honeymoon - woo hoo! I've been charting my BBT (basal body temperature -- hmmm, better start a glossary) for a year now, and that's been enlightening. I've also been trying to learn what I can -- and do what I can -- to increase our chances to conceive without medical assistance. Sometimes I feel empowered by this, other times, overwhelmed. It's been quite the learning process, and really, it's only just begun. While I hear the clock chiming as loudly as if I were standing right next to Big Ben, we've only been trying for a little while, in the grand scheme of things, so I try (often failing miserably though) to keep things in perspective.

Hence the theme of Eggs Over Anxious. Over the past few months, I've watched myself try to do everything I can to facilitate getting a BFP ("big fat positive" pregnancy test). At times though, I wonder if I'm over-doing it. I don't mean that I'm already feeling burnt out, because if that were the case I know I might as well just forget about it. I've read enough stories about TTC on various message boards to know that it's not for the weak. So that's not quite what I mean. I guess what I do mean is that I can see already that I've got the type of personality that might burn out (or worse, completely thwart myself) by being too hyper-conscious in my efforts to conceive.

Yet, I know myself well enough to understand that I need to feel like I'm doing something, even if something is nothing more than writing all this stuff down so I can take a step back and breathe. The true quest then, perhaps, is a search for balance. Perhaps with writing this blog I'm trying to answer the following question: What's the "critical mass" for my level of involvement in my own reproductive process, especially when so much of it is out of my (and my husband's) control?

Anyway, over time I hope to log in here and jot down my thoughts about this journey (and, at times, other random aspects of my life), and share what I've done, and not done, what's not worked, and hopefully at some point, what HAS worked!

Thanks for reading -- I hope you find it time enjoyably spent!