Heartbreak and Control

My BFF, the one that I wrote about here (41 years old, recently had an FET and found out she was pregnant with rising numbers and everything…) Well, it’s all over. She went in for more betas, and her numbers weren’t rising appropriately. Then finally she went in this weekend for an ultrasound, and there is nothing there. She stopped all the progesterone, and now she’s bleeding. My heart breaks for her.

But then, on top of it all, right after she found out she was pregnant, and right before she found out her numbers weren’t increasing appropriately, her husband went to the doctor due to pain in his testicles and they determined he has testicular cancer. So he had one of his testicles removed on Friday, and they find out later this week how bad it is based on the pathology report. I finally got to talk with her on Sunday, and she’s in shock – still processing it all. I can’t even imagine – going through all this at the same time. My heart goes out to her, and I wish I could take away the pain. But I know I can’t. I only did what I knew to do – talk to her, and I sent them flowers.

She sent me an email today, her first day back at work after taking most of last week off: “I’m back at work and I can’t decide if it’s good to be back in familiar territory that I can control or if it sucks to be back to work.” This is so very true. I remember going back to work after my miscarriages, and I found it strangely comforting going to a place where I was competent, where I could have a direct relationship between hard work and results. In school and in work, I’ve been very successful. And so has my friend – ever since we met in grad school we’ve been successful at our studies and our jobs. We’ve worked our way up our own corporate ladders, and our hard work has been recognized and rewarded. It’s only when we try to do something in our personal life like try to start a family that we can’t control the outcome. I find this statement very common in our online IF community. So many of us have been successful professionally, and are then shocked when our plan for family-building doesn’t go as expected.

My friend has tried to get pregnant for over two years, and finally succeeded after two IVF’s and an FET. She had a couple days of happy wonderful times, when she told her family and her close friends, and she started planning for her future baby. And then her world started crumbling around her – her husband was diagnosed with testicular cancer, and then she lost her baby. She, and for that matter all of us, has absolutely no control over what happens to her in her personal life. And this sucks, it really does.

The only thing we can try to control is our reaction to the events around us. And so I can try to be there for my friend, send her flowers as a token of my love, hug my husband a little tighter while being grateful that he’s healthy, and appreciate even more that my baby girl is doing well in my belly. But I’m continually reminded that this is all fleeting – we never know when our worlds can crash - none of us have any control.

Childbirth Class

Hubs and I took our first childbirth class last night. It is a 12 hour class, split into four nights over four weeks. It’s put on by the hospital where I’ll give birth, and includes a tour of the facilities, so that will be helpful. I didn’t really give Hubs an option to attend – I just told him he had to, and I’m glad we’re going. But I doubt we’ll use much of the info we’ll learn.

I would love to think that I won’t use drugs to give birth, but I doubt that will happen. In a perfect world, maybe I would try to have a natural birth, but I would have hired a doula and relied on someone other than Hubs to get me through it. But as we all know, we’re not in a perfect world. I’m taking Lovenox daily to decrease the risk that I’ll lose my baby, and therefore I don’t get to wait until the baby decides she’s ready to be born, as the instructor last night described as ideal. Instead I will go into the doctor’s office at 36 weeks, see what the ultrasound looks like, and then coordinate with my doctor my induction date sometime between 37 and 39 weeks. She will be born slightly early, the meds that I’m on will be strictly scheduled, and my body will be ripped from not-ready-for-labor to induction-by-meds-who-cares-if-you’re-body-is-ready very quickly. Based on what I’ve read, induction involves more intense contractions, IV’s and other medical interventions which will impair my abilities to move around, and an increased chance of C-section. And this is if everything goes according to plan!

And I’m ok with this. I’m ok with handing everything over to the doctor, and allowing him to direct my birth. Because all I care about is having my baby, and I want her to be healthy. I know this decreases my chances of breastfeeding going well because of the meds that will be in my body, and I know that it’s not ideal to deliver before 40 weeks if not necessary, but it’s ok. It’s ok, because it is necessary to make sure that I have this baby! I guess it’s your standard risk vs. reward analysis. Sure, in a perfect world, I might have planned something differently, but this is what I’m doing with the hand I’ve been dealt, and I’m focusing on the good part – the baby that I get at the end. Like I’ve said before, my birth plan consists of three points: in a hospital, healthy baby, healthy mommy. Everything else is just details.

The class last night does NOT agree with my plan – at all. It’s a certified Lamaze class even though it covers other areas, including meds. But its main focus is natural childbirth. Hubs kept leaning over to me last night, saying things are ridiculous, we’re never going to use this, this class is dumb, etc. But that’s ok. I actually had a really good time.

Hubs and I have not been connecting very well lately. We haven’t had fun in awhile together, and it’s starting to wear on our relationship. Prior to getting pregnant, we used to go out a lot with other people, and I don’t do this much anymore. Most of Hubs’ socializing involves bars and drinking. I really don’t mind going to most bars, as long as they’re not smoky, and I have made an effort to go with him for a lot of these outings, but it’s getting harder and harder to hang out with him. I’m not only physically uncomfortable just sitting in a chair for hours on end, but also I’m feeling a bit awkward being the big huge pregnant woman in the bar. It just seems odd! Not as odd as the baby in a bar, but still a bit weird, no? So I’ve cut most of this out of my life, but Hubs still meets our friends quite often – at least twice each week, sometimes more.

Last week we got into a fight on Thursday night when I made dinner for us (which is a huge feat – my back is usually very sore after working, so standing up in the kitchen to make dinner is miserable) and he didn’t call me until 7:45 to tell me that instead of coming home (even when I told him that morning that I was making dinner) he was going to a bar to watch football with some friends. He got a ride home (he had left his car at the bus stop, it’s not like he was drunk) with a friend at 10:00, and invited the friend in to hang out and drink more. I was reading in bed, so I asked him to come talk to me, and I told him that I was very upset that he didn’t come home that night. See, he had gone out Wednesday night with friends to the normal trivia night, and he was leaving for Colorado on Friday to go to a wedding (which I couldn’t go to because the wedding was in the mountains and my doc thinks that I shouldn’t fly and go to high altitudes now). So the only night that he would be around was Thursday, and I made dinner, and he went to the bar. I told him I was upset, and he told me I was unreasonable. He left on Friday, sent me a few texts over the weekend, and then came back Sunday. I tried to talk to him about it on Sunday, and he told me again that I was unreasonable. This didn’t get resolved, I could only drop it.

I’m sure this is common, but I worry about if it will be any different when Alex comes. He is rarely at home, and when he is, he’s on the computer playing some online game. I wonder if he will step up when he has a daughter. He’s been doing better lately – as he sees that I can’t do as much physically as I used to, he really is pitching in quite a bit. I told him that I wasn’t going to make dinner anymore, as it hurts too much and I can’t rely on him to come home, and he said ok. Monday night he came home and made grilled cheese sandwiches and soup – which was perfect. And he’s done a lot of other things. But my mind keeps going to the list of household projects that he starts and doesn’t complete (you should see my backyard – deck was removed, rock was ordered, and only partially placed – for the last few months, and Alex’s room has been partially painted for weeks). I’m trying to be patient, I really am, but he’s driving me nuts!

So last night at birth class was really good for us. Hubs says he was miserable and it was a waste of time, but we had a great time sitting in the back making snide comments about the instructor and what she was suggesting (Hubs told me that there’s no way I was going to lay down on the bed with my pants off and cough so he could watch to see if my amniotic fluid was dripping out!), or the other class members (you know you’re in Texas when a guy is asking if he can go hunting during his wife’s pregnancy – it’s duck season, and their deer lease is three hours away!). It was three hours when Hubs and I were on the same team again, having fun together, and acting like it was us against the world. Maybe we’re not getting as much as we can out of the class when Hubs keeps leaning over to me and whispering “Brainwashing!” But it made me laugh every time. We’re having fun together, which we really need. And that’s definitely worth it!

Woohoo!!!

I’ve talked in the past about my BFF. She’s the one who declared me an IF mentor in April 2010, after she had been TTC for almost a year and finally went to the RE. Since April 2010, she did Clomid for a few months, had two IVF’s and an FET. She skipped IUI’s because her doctor doesn’t recommend them for anyone over 40. During her first IVF, which was around the same time as mine, she had a chemical pregnancy – very low numbers, not doubling, took a long time for her numbers to go to zero so she could try again. Her second IVF didn’t work at all, but she had two frozen embryos from that cycle. This was going to be her last try – she felt like she had to use her frozen embryos before she gave up. But she wasn’t hopeful. When they thawed her two embryos, one of them didn’t make it – it didn’t start growing. So her doctor who normally recommends transferring three embryos for women over 40 gave her a choice: go through with the transfer of the one not-so-good looking embryo, or save the money and try again. She knew that she was done with fertility treatments – she hated the whole process – so she figured that even though the doc wasn’t very hopeful, he may as well transfer the one embryo so she could be done.

Everything was against her – she’s 41, her sole embryo didn’t look good, she had no symptoms, she was done with treatments. I talked with her on Sunday, the day before the results came back from her 2nd blood test (her clinic doesn’t tell patients anything after the first blood test, only after the second blood test shows that it’s increasing appropriately) and she wasn’t hopeful. I asked her to text me the results on Monday, and she said she would, in between beers and cigarettes…

I didn’t hear from her on Monday, and I didn’t call her either. I figured I would give her some time to grieve – I really didn’t think it would work! On Tuesday, I emailed her, but no response. I was trying to be respectful of her grieving process… But Tuesday night, I got a phone call, and she said, “Does Alex want a cousin?” Holy shit! It worked! Just goes to show all you ladies – you never know. All signs could be pointing to things not working, and it can turn out positive!

She’s over the moon excited, and I am too. Not only so that she can have her baby after everything she has gone through, but I’m also very excited for our friendship. There were times in the last few months that I knew that it was hard for her to talk to me. We would go weeks without her returning my calls, which would never happen in the years that we’ve known each other and been friends. She would apologize, claiming that she’s busy, but I know that it was sometimes hard to talk to me. In our conversations, I would never bring up my pregnancy, and only talk about it if she asked me questions, which she did quite a bit. I always tried to steer the conversation back to her, to work, to something else, but it was hard. After her last failed IVF, she said, “I really hope we can continue to be friends even if IVF never works for me.” And I told her I hoped so. I don’t think it ever would have come to that, but it still was concerning, as things between us were harder.

On Tuesday after she told me she was pregnant, it was just like it used to be. Both of us couldn’t stop talking, and it was fabulous. She asked me lots of questions about early pregnancy, and dates and such, and then told me that she was going to be high-maintenance. She would need me for all kinds of support during her pregnancy. This couldn’t have made me happier!

And yet… I can’t stop thinking that she’s too excited, that she’s naively assuming there’s going to be a baby at the end. I just want her to get to the second trimester so the risk of miscarriage is lower. She knows that there’s a chance – she saw what I’ve gone through, her sister has had two miscarriages in between her successful pregnancies, and her doctor told her that the risk of miscarriage is higher for older women, but she’s not thinking of this. All she can think about is that in May, she’s going to have a baby! Which is what she should do – I’m certainly not going to bring this up (thank goodness for not telling anyone my blog address!), and I’m going to try to be as positive as possible when I speak with her. But I’m scared. Because I don’t want anything to ruin this happiness for her.

In the meantime, I’ll continue to be happy for her, and talk about raising our babies together (long-distance, of course – we haven’t lived in the same state since 1997!). I have been hoping for a pregnancy for her for so long, and now it finally happened. Like she said, we both will have our babies from frozen embryos – how perfect is that!

Weekly Visits

Today was the first of many (hopefully) weekly visits with the doc. As I’m taking Lovenox for clotting issues, my doc wanted to start weekly non-stress tests at around 29 weeks, to make sure that my placenta is working, and Alex is getting enough blood, and there are no clotting problems. So I went in today, had the machine strapped to my belly, and listed to her heartbeat for about 20 minutes, while pressing a button every time I felt her move. What a wonderful way to start my morning. Although it took the nurse a few minutes to find her heartbeat, which was a little stressful. I kept telling myself, I just felt her move, I just felt her move, it will be ok. And of course it was ok. Alex performed very well, as her heartbeat increased when she moved, so the doctor called her “reactive”, which apparently is a good thing!

The doc and I talked about the plan for the last part of my pregnancy. Weekly appointments with NST’s. An ultrasound at 36 weeks to check her growth, unless there’s any indication that her growth is off before that. And induction at 37-38 weeks. I asked about switching from Lovenox to Heparin, and he said no. He said there is a lot of discussion as to whether this is important, but he doesn’t think it is. He said that I could go into labor at any time, and with the weekly appointments and constant attention, they will try to control the timing of induction, but we really can’t control it. He plans to have me off of Lovenox for 24 hours prior to induction, but if I go into labor on my own, then it will be fine. He said that worst case, if I have to do a C-section, I won’t be able to do a spinal block and instead will need to have general anesthesia, but he thinks the chance of this is rare. So we’ll just continue to monitor the situation and see what happens.

I’m fine with this approach. I talked a lot with people at my baby shower last week about birth plans and such. I have a friend who did all these hypno-birthing classes, and was so disappointed when she ended up having a C-section. She grieved for a long time, and had a hard time getting over it. In fact, I don’t think she really got over it until she had a successful VBAC with her second pregnancy, with no meds. I completely respect those that place a lot of importance in how the birth takes place, but at this point, I really don’t care. Infertility has taught me that there is very little I can control in my reproductive plans, and it’s OK. I handed the conception of my child over to the doctors, and now I’m handing the birth of my child over to the doctors as well. So my birth plan consists of three things: at a hospital, healthy baby, healthy me. All I care about is being able to take my baby home, and I’d like to be alive to do it.

Moving to weekly appointments, and starting to talk about induction, makes it seem so very close! I’ll be at 30 weeks on Saturday! Which means that I’ll have a baby 7-8 weeks after that! Wow, I can’t believe it’s so close. We have so much to do – classes, her room, another baby shower – but none of it matters. I’m so excited to be able to meet her, and I’m thrilled that I’m getting even closer to that day.

Missing Colorado

We had such a wonderful weekend in Colorado. We spent Thursday through Monday spending time with all our friends and family in Colorado, and we are truly blessed with the people that have stayed in touch with us, and continue to support us and come out to see us when we go back to Denver.

I find myself telling everyone how this little one was conceived. I wasn’t super secretive about my infertility before – I would tell anyone if they asked, or if it seemed natural. But now that I’m pregnant, I feel even more compelled to tell people that this baby was not an accident, and she wasn’t easy, and I worked really hard to get her! I found myself at my baby shower talking to five women in the kitchen all about IUI’s, and IVF’s, and frozen embryos, and any other questions they had for me. And it was great. Maybe this will help get the word out. I don’t have a lot of ambition to be an infertility advocate, or anything like that. But if we could all be more open about our own experiences, maybe it could help infertility have less of a stigma than it does already.

And it doesn’t have to be super serious and educational. We were at a happy hour after the shower so the guys could celebrate too, and after a few drinks, someone started taking a bunch of pictures. Somehow the hubs and I got into some weird poses, with him grabbing my belly and I guess it looked a little sexual, and someone yelled out, “That’s how she got that way!” And the hubs said, “Not exactly. I wasn’t really involved at all!” And I said, “No honey, you were involved – you had your nice alone time with the cup!” And everyone laughed. Not sure if it was awkward for those who didn’t know all the details, but I don’t really care. At that moment, I was proud of us for being easy and up-front about our infertility, even if it was in front of 15 or so random friends and a bunch of strangers around us.

The night before we left, I had a two-hour conversation with the hubs’ grandmother. She’s the only grandparent that we have left between the two of us, and she’s amazing. She’s 92 years old, and she still goes to work every day as a bookkeeper. She keeps the books for about 20 different investment companies and trusts, all on green ledger paper and with a pencil. She decided when she turned 80 that she wasn’t going to worry about things like drinking and dieting anymore, so she will definitely have a cocktail or two if given the opportunity! She and I sat there for two hours, she with her glasses of champagne, and me with my water, and I listened to her talk. She told me all about the birth of her first child.

It was 1944, and she and her husband were living in Oklahoma on an army base. She was about to give birth. In fact, she had been told by her doctor to come into the hospital the next day to give birth (not exactly sure why – I think she was supposed to check into the hospital even though she wasn’t yet in labor). Well, her husband told her that his unit just got orders to go to Europe to fight in World War II. She hadn’t been away from her husband prior to this, but they knew that it was probably coming. So the next morning, instead of checking into the hospital to deliver her baby, she packed up her car. She decided she didn’t want to have a baby in Oklahoma where she didn’t know anyone; instead she wanted to be in Ohio where she grew up and where her mother could help her raise the baby. She had a foot locker that held all her clothes, dishes, and other personal items, and a dog. She drove for two days, without going over 40 miles per hour per the war-time restrictions, and using gas stamps, and she made it to Ohio by herself. She didn’t go into labor for another eight days.

When she went into labor, her mother told her to take a cab to the hospital, but when she got into the cab, she discovered it was full with two other passengers. The cab driver told her that he was going to drop off the other passengers first, as they were defense workers, and they were more of a priority than a laboring woman. She finally got to the hospital, and they discovered the baby was breech. She still delivered vaginally, but only after “the doctor took his knife and cut me, all the way to my bowels!” She hadn’t heard of the term “episiotomy” when I said it. She then told me that for the next ten days while she was in the hospital, the doctor would come by, put a sheet over her face, and show all the students “her bottom” with the cut and all the stitches. She was so embarrassed, having to show her “bottom” to strangers. She stayed in the hospital for ten days with her baby girl, and by the time she went home, they were in a good routine.

I loved hearing her stories of giving birth, and raising babies. She is such an amazing woman. I hope she lives for at least a few more years, as I hope that baby Alex will be able to remember her. She can’t drive as her vision isn’t great, and she has a few medical problems, but overall she’s in really good health. We’ve been talking a lot about death lately, as she recently changed the executor of her estate to the hubs, so she wanted to go over all the details and paperwork with both the hubs and me. I’ve only been with the hubs for eight years of my life, but she is such a huge part of my family, and I don’t ever want to see her go. She’s so excited to meet baby Alex, and I can’t wait to see them together. We’ve decided on a middle name for Alex – Louise. This is the hubs grandmother’s middle name, and I can’t think of a better name for my baby girl.

This trip made us long even more for Colorado. We have to get back there – and soon. Right now we have a two-year plan. At the end of the next two years, we will be back in Denver. Our jobs don’t really support this, but there are more important things than jobs. We want to raise our children in Colorado, near our family, and that is much more important than where we work.

Today is my shower!

This afternoon I am having my first baby shower. I have travelled to Denver for this, and all my Denver family and friends will be there. My mother-in-law and friend have put so much effort into planning and today will be cooking up a storm for this party. I am so grateful for all their hard work, I can hardly put it into words.

I’m amazed I’m here. 28 weeks today, in the third trimester, feeling my little girl kick every day, and having a baby shower. The emotions that well up are overwhelming. The hubs doesn’t understand why it seems I cry every day. I try to hide most of the crying, but when I walk into my friend’s house today and see what they’ve done for the shower, and see people I haven’t seen in a long time coming together to see me and bring a gift for my little girl, I don’t know if I will be able to keep it together.

I cried so much on the phone with my mother yesterday. I really screwed something up. When we’re in town for a long weekend, and we both grew up here and have lots of people that we love here, it’s very hard to fit everyone in. I had made plans to see my mother for lunch yesterday, and it didn’t work out. I won’t go into all of it, but we weren’t able to have lunch yesterday, and she’s not free any time the rest of the time I’m here. As she says, “I have a life too.” She’s coming to the shower this afternoon, but I won’t be able to have any quality time with her at an event like that. I was just so disappointed, as she won’t come to Texas to visit, now or even after baby Alex’s birth, and I rarely get to see her. I should have made sure lunch happened yesterday, and I feel so guilty for this, but I don’t know what to do about it now. I hope she’s nice today at the shower – it could go either way.

Besides the issue with my mother, everything’s been wonderful. We’re staying with the in-laws, and they’ve been so nice. All of our friends have dropped whatever they were doing to spend time with us, and we are getting some very special attention as we’re bringing the first baby of the generation to this crazy group. It’s so sweet, but all the attention gets somewhat overwhelming at times too.

I just can’t believe I’m here. After all the infertility treatments, and the losses, and the sadness and longing that took over my life for a couple years, I’m in my third trimester, and I’m celebrating the pending birth of my little girl with all the people I love in my life. I’m so very lucky, and I remember it daily. I have quite a few friends having fertility struggles of their own, and I wish I could take their pain from them. There are two of those ladies coming to the shower this afternoon, and I sent them each messages telling them if it was too much to come to the shower, I certainly understand, but they are planning on coming. I hope it’s not too painful for them. I don’t understand why some of us have to bear the infertility burden, but I know that having gone through it gives me such an appreciation of what I have, that I don’t know if I would have had without infertility. We were at a bar last night with our friends, and after a few hours of sitting on a bar stool, my back was killing me. I stood up and was leaning over the stool, trying to stretch it out, feeling pretty miserable. But then Alex kicked me, telling me she was still alive and doing well, and somehow the pain in my back seemed tolerable. I can deal with physical pain – it’s nothing like the emotional pain of not having my little girl.

Daycare

I spent two years trying to have a baby, and now I’m spending time trying to find someone to hire to take care of my baby. I can’t believe I’m doing this, and every time I think of actually leaving my baby girl at a daycare center, I get a little nauseous. But it is what it is. I’m going back to work when Alex is three months old, and there’s no going around it. And I’ve looked into nannies (too expensive, and I don’t know anyone personally that would do it that I would trust, so no) and au pairs (not too expensive, but unless I knew someone personally, I wouldn’t do it) and home day care centers (no – definitely not. Unless I knew someone personally who ran the daycare, I wouldn’t trust someone with a home daycare, I’ve heard way too many awful stories). So we’ve decided that a daycare center is the way to go. It took me a few months to come to this conclusion, and I’m definitely better than how I was awhile ago. About two months ago, I started doing research and saw some videos of a local daycare, and they were showing the fabulous shots of the infant room. All I saw was the row of cribs and I burst into tears, thinking it looks like an orphanage… So I’ve emotionally progressed beyond that point, but it’s still hard.

I finally started calling around to local daycares, and determined that although many places have spots available for February, the spots are limited and are filling up, so we definitely need to make a decision soon! So for the last two weeks, I’ve been touring daycares around my area during my lunch hour. Then I’m supposed to narrow it down to three places, and the hubs and I will take off an afternoon and go check out the three top places. He works an hour away from our home, and my commute is 7 minutes, so I definitely have an advantage for looking at all these places. Plus as he told me yesterday, “You know I don’t really like talking to people, and lots of babies make me nervous!” So for him to agree to go to three daycares is pretty good. When I first started this process, I thought he would want to go to the one that I picked, and that’s it! One nice thing is there’s a woman at work who is due three weeks after me, and she has a four-year old that has gone through daycare, so she has been going with me and asking good questions. Her boy is in a preschool that doesn’t accept infants, and she didn’t love the daycares that she used when he was younger, so she’s also looking. So it’s been nice to have her along for the tours. (Although if I have to hear again how getting pregnant must be in the water at your company or some other bullshit line, I might scream. She got pregnant with her new boyfriend accidentally, while on the pill…)

After going to five daycares, which are the only ones that aren’t too far out of my way (which isn’t saying too much - I really like my 7 minute commute) and take infants, I’ve narrowed it down to three.

Daycare A: Franchise of a national chain.
Cost: $260 per week
Infant room: In room until walking, and then will graduate to higher room. Some daycares have babies all the way up to 12-13 months together, so crawlers/walkers are going all over 6 weekers!
Ratio of teachers to infants: 1 teacher: 4 infants, up to 8 in the room.
Location: best location – on the way to work, no increase in commute.
Curriculum: Nationally set curriculum, teach baby sign language, structured days as kids get older. Most curriculum-based of the three.
Pros: Location; very professional company; curriculum-based education; very efficiently run company, which appeals to me as a business woman, not sure as a mom.
Cons: Smallest infant room (very small); rumors of high turnover of staff, but the infant teacher has been there 1 ½ years, and seems very good; don’t know anyone personally that uses center.

Daycare B: Church daycare.
Cost: $225 per week
Infant room: In room until crawling, and then will graduate to higher room until walking, and then will graduate to walking room.
Ratio of teachers to infants: 1 teacher: 3.5 infants, up to 7 in the room.
Location: good. Adds about 5-10 minutes to commute.
Curriculum: Teacher-set curriculum. For babies, no real curriculum, not very structured days. For older kids, have schedule, but doesn’t seem to be a main focus.
Pros: Not-for-profit, which is a huge decision-maker for the hubs, and I’m not sure (he believes that in not-for-profits, more money goes to the babies as they’re not trying to make money, which I can see his point, but isn’t always true); Church-based, which isn’t a huge deal as we’re not super religious, but I like the idea of kids being taught right from wrong from others outside of parents; Most home-like environment (the infant room reminded me of a big living room as opposed to a school); really liked the teacher, who has been there over five years; have very good recommendations from people I know, including people who have their babies there now.
Cons: Not a big focus on curriculum, so as kids get older may not learn as much as in other preschools; can’t really think of any others.

Daycare C: Only location, for-profit.
Cost: $220 per week
Infant room: In room until crawling, and then will graduate to higher room until walking, and then will graduate to walking room.
Ratio of teachers to infants: 1 teacher: 4 infants, up to 8 in the room.
Location: furthest away. Adds about 20 minutes to commute.
Curriculum: They use a national curriculum that they purchase from a curriculum provider (not sure exactly, but this is my impression). Very structured. Teach baby sign language, and every class has Spanish lessons. Teach some using DVD’s – every classroom has a TV, which is a bit odd – different than any other daycares I toured. But they said the TV is on a program maximum an hour each day, the rest of the time it’s on music only.
Pros: I really liked the director, who seemed very good; it’s small but very structured, which appeals to me as I like the curriculum focus; I know one person who gave a glowing recommendation about this place.
Cons: Location, but that’s probably about it.

This is a hard decision. I think I’m leaning towards Daycare B or C, and it really depends on what things I want to focus on. No, the curriculum isn’t very important for my 3-month old when she first starts daycare, but what about my 3-year old? Won’t I want her to get more of an education at that age? I’m sure Daycare B won’t give her a bad education, but if I’m paying almost $1,000 per month, shouldn’t we get something more out of it than safety and well-being? I don’t know – I’m hoping hubs can help me decide, but he’s completely prejudiced about picking the church-based one, I don’t think he’ll listen to anything else. Do any of you have advice for other things I should be asking? Or things I should be considering other than the items above? This is so hard, and I feel like it’s such a big decision.

And I would really appreciate it if you would not question my decision to go back to work. I’m having a hard enough time with it myself… Thanks!

Viability!

I surpassed the elusive 24 week mark this weekend, and I can’t believe it. I’ve looked up viability a bit, and this is when the chance of life starts to become greater than 50/50. This is when the NICU docs will fight for my baby to live, because she has a fighting chance. This is when she might be able to come out and live. But I’d rather not. She needs to stay in there for quite a bit longer, keep cooking and growing, for a few more months.

I went to the doctor for a nice boring appointment this morning. My fundal height is right on – 24 cm. Baby Alex’s heartbeat is a nice strong 140, and my blood pressure is 122/78, all good. He approved me to fly to Denver in a few weeks, and gave me a note to carry my shots, so I should be ready to go.

I’ve been reflecting on my pregnancy, and it really has been so easy. Besides the anxiety, which I think I’ve been managing fairly well, everything is good. I don’t feel too awful (besides the minor symptoms), and there have been very little scares after the beginning progesterone and bleeding issues. I’m so very lucky to have made it this far, and I’m just thrilled to be able to carry little Alex around for the next few months. And I really hope this “easy” pregnancy thing continues.

After the doc left my room and I was waiting for the note to be able to fly with shots, I could hear him go into the next room for a patient that was around 24 weeks as well, and everything was fine with her. But then I heard the ultrasound tech tell a nurse in the hallway, “I have a 10-weeker with no fetal heartbeat. Need the doc.” And they all just waited until he was done with the patient, and grabbed the doc to go help the 10-weeker with no fetal heartbeat. That poor woman, sitting in that ultrasound room, waiting for the doctor to come and confirm her baby has no heartbeat, and talk about what to do next. I remember that wait, sitting in the ultrasound room crying and hoping for some miracle, something the doctor would be able to see when the tech couldn’t. I closed my eyes, and wished for that miracle for that unseen patient, or at the very least, some peace. I was thankful though that she was going to have the talk with my doc, he was really good with me when it was my time, and he was great at the D&C.

I made it out of the office after paying and making my next appointment, but when I got to my car, I burst into tears. I cried for that women whose heart is breaking, I cried for my baby that I lost last year in the same way, and I cried with joy that my Alex is alive, and her heart is still beating. I’m so very lucky to be 24 weeks pregnant, and although I didn’t necessarily need a reminder, I certainly got one today.

Budgeting

First, I wanted to say thank you to everyone for their amazing comments on my last post about my body, weight and self-image. I never talk about my weight, especially the specifics, to anyone – not even the hubs – and I felt very vulnerable putting it all out there for everyone to see and comment on, as this was very out of character for me. But everyone was so nice, and it was interesting to see how many people have had similar experiences as I have. Once again, this community has shown me how accepting and wonderful everyone is!

So now I’m bringing another topic up that I normally don’t talk with others about: personal finance. I’m ashamed to admit that this is not my forte, and both my husband and I are terrible at it – and we’re accountants! We can handle the finances of multi-million dollar companies, but not our own. Those who can’t do teach, right? Now our personal situation isn’t awful – we don’t have huge debt, and we have some savings, but the overriding theme is we spend way too much. We have both worked very hard at school, and then our careers, so we both have good, well-paying jobs, but that means we have more money to spend. I know, I sound ridiculous talking about this. We’ve never really budgeted ourselves. We pay our bills, we put some money in savings, but really only the stuff we’ve pre-designated, and the rest it seems we spend, without any thought. There were months when we would tell ourselves to cut back, especially when we were going through fertility treatments, and especially before our new insurance became effective which covered most of the treatments, but we never budgeted. This year I finally started tracking our spending, and which categories we have spent on, but we never controlled ourselves, and it’s obscene! We’d talk every once in awhile about it, lament about how awful we were, and just go back to it. I’d suggest something, then he would suggest something, but we’d never really budget anything.

But we have some things changing in our lives. There’s a baby coming. And although I plan to go back to work after having little Alex, I know there will be big expenses. And more than anything I want to feel like we’re not spending everything we have, and I want to build up some more savings. I’m feeling nervous about not having a large accessible savings. Yes, we have decent 401(k)’s, and some other investments, and equity in our house, so we’re doing better than most, but I want to have money sitting there – just in case! And I don’t feel like it’s there and ready for an emergency, which makes me feel insecure. We’re about to start spending around $1,000 per month on daycare (wow!), and we’re about to buy a new car (whole other post, but we’re seriously considering a minivan – never thought I would do this, but even with one baby, it makes a lot of sense for a baby and 2 dogs that combined weigh 210 pounds). And I have a not-so-secret dream of going part-time with my job. Hubs has definitely not agreed to that, and it would be hard financially, especially considering I make more than hubs, but it might be possible. Maybe after Baby #2…

So all this led to some serious conversations about spending. I finally proposed an idea, which hubs agreed to, that may change all this. Starting a week ago, we each have a certain amount of cash that has to last us one month. This cash covers all meals, groceries, gas, clothes, everything that we individually spend. I get a little more cash because I buy all the groceries, but if we can stick to these cash amounts, we will save SO MUCH MONEY! We’ll probably spend about a third of what we were spending before, excluding the fixed costs like mortgage and insurance.

I’m really excited about this cash project of ours. So far, it’s going great. I’ve started clipping coupons, and planning meals using items that are in the freezer and pantry, and the like. But I wanted to see if y’all have any good ideas. Where do you find your coupons, for those that use them? I got a Sunday paper last week, and there were no coupons! WTF? Turns out they are in the Wednesday paper in Houston, or maybe Thursday, online discussions disagree… That was $2 wasted. I’ve started to find some websites, but any suggestions would be greatly appreciated. And what else are your save-money suggestions? So far I think I’m doing a great job with money-spending, or rather saving, but it will be interesting to see how this goes after the initial excitement wears off. It’s only been a week…

Also I’d love to hear how your family budgets, and anything you have found works well. It’s amazing, I’m 36 years old and I’m finally trying to grow up and be more responsible…

Making up with my body

I’ve never really liked my body. From being teased at about 11 years old for my gorilla legs (my mother wouldn’t let me shave), to being teased for not having breasts (I developed a little late, but the real issue is I was younger than everyone in my class, as I skipped a grade and had a June birthday), to hating my fat thighs and arms, which started around 11 as well, it has always been a battle. I look back at pictures of myself in high school, when I thought I was fat, and I want to shake that girl – she looked great! I graduated high school at 5’4’’, and weighed 120 pounds. I wanted to lose weight.

In college and grad school, I gained and lost some weight, but it wasn’t too bad. I wasn’t happy with my weight, and wanted to lose, but never seemed to be able to do that. I remember telling my grad school roommate that at least I was stable, and I didn’t think I would ever gain any more. I was 130 pounds.

When I started working, I worked in a public accounting firm, and would work up to 80 hours a week. In public accounting, the joke was that in the same week, we would eat a 5-course meal at a fancy restaurant and a meal from a vending machine, and this was very true. We went out to eat all the time, and brought in meals when working late. I had no time for exercise, and didn’t take care of myself. And getting married and divorced, and having serious depression did not help. About six years after starting work, I was up to 170 pounds. I went on Weight Watchers, lost about 15 pounds, started dating the hubs, and quit public accounting. We were both at our skinniest in awhile when we started dating. But then we started going out to restaurants, and we’re awful influences on each other. We both gained a bunch of weight, and I got up to about 175. Then we got engaged, and both working on being healthier.

For our wedding in 2009, I got down to 160. I would have loved to be skinnier, but I think I looked good. With a good pair of Spanx, I had a flat belly. And even the hubs wore a tank top that held him in a bit at the wedding! We got ready together, and we laughed as both of us struggled to get into our undergarments – we were meant for each other! I had been tanning, so my skin glowed. I felt very pretty, and comfortable in my own skin. But on the honeymoon, I threw away the diet pills that I had been taking, and said I didn’t want to take those anymore. Hubs teased me that I was a stereotype: throwing away the diet pills while pulling out the prenatal vitamins.

Over the next two years, as we tried to have a baby, and did fertility treatments, and got pregnant, and had an ectopic, and then got pregnant, and then miscarried at 8.5 weeks, my weight increased and fluctuated quite a bit. My heaviest was 185 pounds, which was shortly after the D&C. I was disgusted with myself, so I started a “Couch to 5K” program, and promptly sprained my ankle. I hated my body. Not only for the weight, but even more because my body killed my baby. And was completely broken. I felt the worst about myself that I ever have last summer after the miscarriage. I couldn’t get pregnant, and when I did, my body killed the baby, I was fat, and I couldn’t even exercise because of the sprained ankle.

Throughout my life, I have always hated my body. I would feel fat, and unhappy with myself. I hated shopping for clothes, hating how everything looked on me, and waiting until I lost weight to buy clothes, which never seemed to happen. And all this was made worse by my infertility.

I always wanted to become pregnant at a low weight, as I wanted to be one of those cute skinny women with the bowling ball bellies. Skinny arms, skinny legs, big beautiful belly. I am definitely not that woman. But as my belly increases, I’m starting to like my body again. Yes, I have big thighs, big arms, chubby face, etc., but I also have this big beautiful belly that is housing my baby. And my body is nourishing and growing my baby girl, and everything is on track. I am one of the very lucky ones whose skin looks better while pregnant. After about 10 weeks, I have had very minimal blemishes, I don’t have any stretch marks (yet) or linea nigra (yet – I know these can come), and everything is looking good so far! Every morning I lather on some oil over my growing belly, and I love the way it looks, even while naked! (Except for the Lovenox bruises – those are never pretty.) Everything looks so bizarre and funny, and my eyes go to my belly and breasts, instead of the rest of my body. My breasts are big with protruding veins and my nipples look weird, but I know all this is in preparation to feed my baby girl, and I’m so excited that I get to continue to provide nourishment to her even after she’s born. (I hope this goes well!!!)

I’ve received some not-so-lovely comments from people, from my friend telling me I’m really big for 5 months, and it’s going to get a lot worse, to a couple people telling me I’m growing across and they can tell my hips have spread, even from behind! And the hubs doesn’t help – I put something on the other day and asked if it looked ok, and he shrugged his shoulders. I then said I feel like a huge pregnant woman, and he agreed, saying "well that's what you are!" I haven’t seen my mom yet during this pregnancy, but she just told me all about some woman at her gym who was farther along than me and was barely showing at all! So I probably shouldn’t be showing much, right?

But for some reason, for the first time in my life, I don’t care what people are saying. And yes, I still feel fat, but more than that I feel pregnant. And I like that. My body is doing exactly what it’s supposed to do, and I love it. When I look in the mirror, I see my belly, and I’m happy to look like a pregnant woman. I started this pregnancy at 178.4 pounds, and this morning on the scale I was 187.4, so I’ve gained 9 pounds at 23 weeks. Yes, it might be a little much for someone who started out with a BMI classification of “Obese” (but just barely!), but I’m fine with it. My weight gain is not out of control, and it’s been steady after an initial weight loss of a few pounds due to morning sickness, and my doc does not seem concerned. I’m reading a book called Big, Beautiful and Pregnant: Expert Advice and Comforting Wisdom for the Expecting Plus-Size Woman, and I like it. There’s nothing ground-breaking in there, but I like the emphasis on being healthy and enjoying your body, rather than being super restrictive and mean, like a lot of the normal books are regarding bigger pregnant women. And I really like the advice on embracing your body with maternity clothes, and the stories from women who finally like their body.

That’s how I feel – for the first time in my life, I’m feeling good about myself and my body. Sure, it would be nice to be skinnier, but right now, I’m happy with my size. I love my belly and my breasts, and all that it means. I guess I’m feeling very confident considering I’m sharing all the weight details on my blog! And I wanted to write this down so later in my pregnancy, when I’m feeling huge (because let’s face it, the time will come), I could re-read this and remind myself to love my body for what it’s doing – it’s making a baby!!! So in honor of my new good feelings about myself, today I took my first pregnancy photos, and I’m sharing them with you. Check out Jackson in the background…

I Cheated!

I’ve been so good in this pregnancy, watching everything that goes into my mouth. I haven’t had any raw fish (I miss you sushi!), or soft cheeses, and no caffeine, well almost no caffeine… Up until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t had one drop of caffeine, which I miss terribly. Prior to TTC, I loved getting up in the morning and making myself a cup of coffee, and enjoying it over the news, which I would do every day. Then later at work, I would often get a small latte in the mid-morning. While TTC, I would stop for awhile, go to decaf for awhile, cycle back and forth, never really giving it up. I finally gave it up completely in November last year, preparing for my first IVF cycle. When my IVF failed, I had a couple cups of coffee for a few days, but I quickly abstained, knowing the FET cycle would be coming, and I didn’t want to get addicted again.

So I haven’t had any coffee – ALL YEAR!!! Up until a few weeks ago… I’m sure you all remember how I went to the doc for a 20 week ultrasound, and they couldn’t tell if my baby was a boy or a girl. Well the doc told me to drink some caffeine before I came in for the next ultrasound so the baby would be up and moving around. I was so excited. It almost seemed worth it – I didn’t know the sex of my baby, but I got coffee! And a few days later when I counted down the minutes until I went and got that mini-latte, I definitely thought it was worth it. I was pretty excited about finding out the sex, but I also got a latte! Oh wow – what a great day!

But just like any good addict, one taste, and that’s all I can think about. Since that doctor-recommended latte, I catch myself thinking back to that time when I felt so good drinking it. It’s not only the flavor (which of course is fabulous), but it’s the feeling that everything is so right with the world! Most days I’m pretty tired throughout the day, and I’m functioning, but with coffee I’m SO MUCH BETTER! But I held off, telling myself that I shouldn’t drink any. Granted, my doc said I can have two cups each day, but I’m better than that, right? I don’t need silly crutches like caffeine – I’m a good pregnant woman – no coffee necessary! Or at least that’s what I told myself until yesterday…

Monday night I was up late, as hubs got home late and we stayed up talking. So I was tired on Tuesday, but I was fine, I’m used to being tired. Tuesday night we spent four hours in the ER, waiting for the hubs to be seen, and finally giving up at 11:00. (Long story short: he has a huge welt on his arm, he went to his work clinic during the day, who told him it is a brown recluse spider bite, and he needed to go to ER that night, apparently the ER disagreed since they wouldn’t see him, but wouldn't tell us that, they just kept us waiting until we gave up. Then he went to another clinic during the day yesterday, and they think it’s a MSRA staph infection, not a spider bite. They sent a sample away for testing, so we’re not sure what it is, but either way it could be very bad if left untreated, but he’s on some serious antibiotics and ointment, and I’m hoping it’s not a contagious staph infection…) So anyway, back to me – I was tired. So very tired yesterday afternoon at work, I could barely keep my eyes open. And I was about to have to lead a meeting, which does not allow napping for some reason. And so I did it, I went and got a latte.

And it was wonderful. Throughout the meeting, I sipped on my latte. I was planning on drinking only half of my small cup, but somehow all of it disappeared. I could feel Lil’ Alex waking up, and she was kicking like crazy, which was fun. And my brain was clicking like it never does! I started talking faster, and thinking faster, and everything was fantastic! I was happy, and it spread throughout the rest of my day. I got a bunch of work done in the hour remaining after the meeting, ran a few errands, then went to my therapist appointment and talked about my mom without crying or anything! Then I called my mom and told her what I had practiced with my therapist (“You have an open invitation to come visit, I’d really like you to come, but I’m not going to ask anymore, so please let me know when you’re ready to come visit.”) and went home. I cleaned up a little, and then worked on a new cross-stitch project (can’t believe I started another one, especially with Alex coming, but I missed doing it!), and stayed up WAY TOO LATE! I forced myself to go to bed at 10, but read a book until about 11 when the hubs came home. Then I got up and talked to him for awhile. I finally got to sleep around 12:30, and didn’t sleep well at all. And now, I’m exhausted…

Moral of the story is don’t drink caffeine in the afternoon. Or really ever, as it obviously does a number on me as my tolerance is so low now. But I can’t wait until I get to go back to my little habit – it will be wonderful!!! But when? I probably shouldn’t while breastfeeding, which I plan to do for a year, and then I’ll be weaning right when I will probably want to start TTC again. Ugh – when do I get coffee??? Yes, my name is Alex (kinda), and I'm an addict…

My IF Craft Project – Finished!!!

In November 2009, I made my first appointment with an RE. We had tried to get pregnant for almost a year, and it wasn’t going well. I had tried for a year with my ex in my 20’s, and that didn’t go well either. And so I was sick of the waiting, the longing, the constant thoughts that go through my mind. At the time, my hubs had a very stressful job, one that would often keep him at work until midnight or later. So I had many evenings by myself, with nothing to do but stress. I expected to go to the RE, magically get fixed since that’s what docs do, and have a baby soon! Oh how naïve I was… But I knew I needed to figure out something to do while waiting for my baby.

I scanned the internet, looking for a cross-stitch project which I could love. I really enjoy doing cross-stitch, but most of the designs out there are very country-looking, or kitschy. I wanted something that I could proudly hang in my house and would look a little more contemporary to fit with the rest of the house. I looked up modern cross stitch, and found gecko rouge. If you’re ever looking for a modern cross stitch pattern, take a look at gecko rouge – they have a shop on etsy with lots of great designs.

The whole thing, with the pattern, fabric and thread, cost less than $30, but I have spent countless hours on this project. It is 14 inches square, and made up of 40,000 stitches. Most nights since November 2009, I’ve worked on this project. It made the time go by quicker. So many nights, I would be counting the days until the next treatment, until the next shot, until the beta, until the whatever… And this cross stitch project would get me through. There were months when I wouldn’t touch it – after the miscarriages, during the hopeless times, somehow I couldn’t bear to work on the project. But when I got back in the TTC saddle, and started treatments again, somehow I would be drawn to this project.

I didn’t know where I was going to hang it, as there is absolutely no pink in my house, but I figured I would remodel a bathroom or a guest room all around this project, once I got it framed. But now, I’m having my little Alex, and I think it will go great in her room. I spent countless hours working on this project, waiting for her to arrive, so now it will be a perfect addition to her room. Here it is:



And a close-up of the stitches:

Confession

I have a confession. My name is not Alex. Well, at least not to most people in my life, who call me by my first name. My middle name is Alexandra, and I’ve always wanted to be known as Alex. When I was six years old, I told everyone in my life to now call me Alex. They never did. After awhile, I was resigned to the fact that nobody would call me anything but my first name – after all, you can’t change your own name! But a few years later I figured out that I could control someone’s name – if I ever had a girl, I would name her Alex. When I had a “Flour Baby” (bag of flour dressed up as a baby) in high school for Religion class (went to Catholic boarding school – whole other story…), I named her Alexandra and called her Alex. And every guy I’ve ever dated, if it ever got serious, I made it very clear that my first daughter would be named Alex. But honestly, it never occurred to me that I would have a daughter! I don’t know why, but I always thought I would have boys. But this little girl surprised me, so now I’m finally having my Alex.

Over a year ago, when I created this blog, I wanted to be able to write anonymously. So I picked a name that I’ve always wanted for myself: Alex. And being the completely uncreative type that I am, I chose a generic title: Alex’s Adventures. I figured I would be one of the lucky ones (it took me longer than I thought, but I still ended up one of the lucky ones!). I’d start an infertility blog to talk about my struggles, and very quickly get pregnant! So I wanted a generic type of blog name, so I could talk about my life after infertility too. Well, it’s taken awhile, but I’m fully in my pregnancy (21 weeks tomorrow!), which is fabulous. I don’t think I’ll ever move past infertility – the other day someone tried to tell me I was no longer infertile, and I quickly corrected them… But I’m excited to talk about my new baby girl Alex, and other things in my life.

So it may get complicated, because in this blogland I love so much, I’m keeping my name, and I’m adding a new character: Baby Alex, or Lil’ Alex, or whatever you want to call her, as long as it’s nice! Yes, it may be a little complicated, but I think we can figure it out – y’all are smart! Now if we could only figure out a middle name – anyone have a good suggestion for a short (preferably one syllable) middle name that goes with Alexandra?

Girl!!!

I'm sitting in the doctor's office, waiting to see the doc, but the main event has already happened: I had an ultrasound, and the baby finally opened her legs, and showed those unmistakable 3 lines: girl!!! I can't believe it - this makes it seem so very real. 

I can't believe I'm going to be the mother to a little girl. To say that I'm nervous about my capabilities to raise a girl is an understatement. I know I shouldn't be nervous, but having a girl brings up so many different emotions and memories about my childhood that I don't think would happen if I found out our baby is a boy. Oh well, I guess that's what therapy is for... What do you think I'll be talking about with my counselor in the upcoming weeks? :)

Please don't misinterpret my anxiety with disappointment. I've always wanted a little girl. From the clothes and all the girly stuff, to watching the hubs be a father to a girl (I know he'll be great!), to raising a girl to be strong and independent, I'm thrilled! I can't wait to meet her, this little girl of mine!!!

In the meantime, I wish the doc would hurry up so I can get out of here and into the mall! I haven't bought anything yet - it's time to start shopping!

Now is NOT the time for modesty!

I went to the doctor this morning, very excited about the ultrasound. I was so excited to find out if my baby is a boy or girl! BUT… Baby had other plans. The legs were closed the entire time, so the tech couldn’t see anything. Also, the baby’s butt was under my belly button, so there were lots of shadows, and she couldn’t get to the right angle. I was disappointed, but very happy to see that all the measurements and everything look great. The doctor said Baby’s measuring at about 35/100 on the range of babies. I said, so it’s small? But no, it’s just fine, just right in the middle. Finally later the hubs said it’s within one standard deviation of the mean. Which makes sense to me! Why don’t they explain it that way?

I think the doc and the ultrasound tech made up some stuff that they weren’t able to see on today’s ultrasound, so I “have” to come back in to complete the anatomy scan. I was thrilled to find out I get another ultrasound on Monday. The doc said his wife would kill him if she found out he made someone wait another four weeks or more to find out the sex! Love that!

I really wanted to go buy something for the baby this weekend (nothing yet!) and start the registry, but I guess it will have to wait until next week. Oh well, the only thing that matters is the baby is healthy, and measuring right on track! And we're halfway done - 20 weeks tomorrow!!!

Movement!

I have to admit, this is so amazingly cool. About a week ago, at about 18 weeks, I started feeling something in my lower belly, but I figured it was gas. Sometime last week I was in the middle of a meeting, and I felt a distinct movement – nothing that felt like gas, or cramps, or anything. And then it is getting more and more pronounced, each and every day. I can’t believe it – I actually have something growing inside me! The movement is still very sporadic, but oh so distracting. How am I supposed to get anything done over the next few months? All I want to do is stop and focus on feeling my baby move.

And what kind of freak feels movement in her belly and still grabs the Doppler to make sure there’s a heartbeat? I think I didn’t want to feel like a fool when I’ve been telling the hubs about movement, and then it turns out the baby is no longer alive. I keep telling the hubs I feel movement, and he scoffs and tells me it’s probably gas – he’s definitely living up to the stereotype of men during this pregnancy – I don’t think it will seem real for him until he holds the baby. Can’t wait until we see the baby on Friday – it’s been so long since the ultrasound, and we get to find out the sex!

A good friend at work asked me last week how the baby is doing. How are you supposed to answer that? I responded with what I was thinking: “Still here, I think!” He called me creepy… I think that will be the last time he asks me how the baby is doing…

Other than the awkward responses to people, I’m doing just fine. I’m very excited to find out the sex, as I think it will help make it more real when we start calling the baby by its name, and although I won’t truly believe it until there is a baby in my arms, I think there may actually be a child at the end of this road. I’ve stopped reading most of my pregnancy books – there’s not a lot I can do right now about the pregnancy except keep myself healthy. But I can learn about how to take care of a baby, of which I know very little. So I’m reading about things like breastfeeding and sleeping and such. People keep telling me my life will change so much after the baby is born, trying to warn me. I always respond, “I know – I can’t wait!” At least I’m positive with that response…

I Just Don’t Get It

I don’t understand my mother – I never have. I know I should know better, but every once in awhile I forget that I can’t rely on my mother, and it always seems to surprise me. We’ve always struggled with our relationship, but things have been better lately. She’s been very nice on the phone, and she’s been sweet in the last year or so, supporting me through my fertility treatments and losses. But it only goes so far.

About two months ago I asked her to come visit me for a weekend (she lives in Denver). She said she was going on a two-week trip in May, and she would visit me after that. OK, fine. I talked with her two weeks ago when she returned from her trip, and asked her when she was going to visit me. She was vague, “Oh, I’m just so busy. I don’t know when I can.” So I told her to check her calendar and let me know. Mind you, she doesn’t work, she has a husband who works part-time, but her schedule consists of things like taking long walks, knitting and a little charity work – she just told me she’s a model in some charity fashion shows. I talked with her last night, and asked her again when she was coming to visit. This time I told her a project that I wanted help with – recovering the seat cover of a cedar chest that I want to put in the nursery. She gave me the chest years ago, and she has recovered it before, and she acted interested in it when I discussed it last night. When I mentioned a specific purpose and project I wanted to work on with her, she finally sounded interested, but would not commit to a date. She’s done this so many times: “I’d love to come visit you, but I just don’t know when!” I’ve lived in Houston for over three years, and she has never visited…

But then I asked her the big question, only because it came up. She asked me about working after the baby comes (yes, unfortunately), and maternity leave (12 weeks, but the last 3 weeks I’ll work part-time from home), and if the hubs was taking time off. I told Mom that he was taking one week off at birth, and then taking two weeks off when I had to go back to work. We’re planning on using daycare, but I’m somewhat stressed about it. I haven’t visited any yet as they don’t have huge waiting lists around here and I have only looked at websites, but even looking at pictures of the infant rooms on websites gave me a pit in my stomach. I know that the transition back to work will be difficult for me. So ideally I’d like to have four weeks with me at work without the baby at daycare: 2 weeks with the hubs, 1 week with my mom, and 1 week with my mother-in-law. I haven’t asked my MIL yet, but I know she’ll say yes, actually she would probably come for two weeks if we asked her, and she has a full-time job! And I assumed my mom would say yes – who wouldn’t say yes to taking care of their grandchild?

Since Mom asked me about maternity leave and the hubs taking time off from work, I told her what I would like and explained that I’m worried about how hard it will be to leave my child in daycare, and I asked her if she would come here for a week and take care of the baby to help with the transition. She laughed – loud, and for awhile. I told her that I knew that it was a lot to ask, and she can say no, but please think about it and let me know, because I would really appreciate it if she could help me. Then she said that she thinks that she’s going on a cruise around that time, maybe two cruises! I said, “Really, when is your cruise?” She replied that she wasn’t sure, it was sometime around November or December. I said, “Oh, well that’s good, because I’m talking about the end of January or early February.” And she stumbled for a bit, talked about planning on going to Utah to ski in January, so I let her off the hook and asked her to think about it. But I think I got my answer – she has no interest in coming here for a week to help me, or even for a weekend before the baby is here. She wants to continue our nice superficial relationship, but anytime I ask her to do something truly inconvenient, she won’t do it.

The worst part is she has said in the past that she wants to help me, and come to visit and help. She got upset because she found out my MIL came here (from Denver) to help us paint the house, and then another time my MIL came here to take me to my hysteroscopy appointment because my hubs couldn’t do it. She very pointedly said that she didn’t understand why I asked my MIL to come here for the appointment instead of her, and I blamed it on the hubs. But the real answer is I can’t rely on my mom. The hubs called his mom with about 3 days notice, asking her to take off work and fly here, and she didn’t hesitate at all – of course she would come, and this is why we asked her. But now, I’m asking my mom with seven months notice to come here for a week and take care of her grandchild when I go back to work, and it’s too much to ask. I just don’t get it.

One Year Ago

I woke up today, so tired. But somewhere in my fog, things started to change in the shower. As I was leaning over for my daily hot water massage on my lower back and stretch (backaches this early – ugh!), I started thinking about how lucky I am. The last few days, I’ve been more tired than normal, and the backaches are getting worse and worse, and I’ve been getting a little grumpy. But today I realized that it’s all so worth it – thank goodness I get the opportunity to have a sore back.

The last few weeks have seen some really low lows in the IF blogworld – losses beyond imagination. And some very high highs – births, and BFPs. Wonderful news. Also, in my personal life, my BFF found out last week that her second IVF resulted in a BFN, and now she won’t return my phone calls. I know she just needs time, but it’s still hard knowing she is hurting, and she won’t talk to me. All this makes me think about how many different paths there are, and how hard we are all trying to build our families, and some of us make it, and some of us don’t. I don’t know why some of us get our babies, and for some reason some of us never get a chance, or keep losing our babies. All I know is I’m so very grateful to have this chance. Yes, I fought really hard for this baby, and I continue to fight, but I know how fleeting this happiness can be. And I know how lucky I am to have this baby inside me. I’m starting the golden time of pregnancy – the small little flutters are starting in my lower belly (I think it’s movement – can’t really tell for sure), and I have an ultrasound where we will be able to find out the sex of the baby next week – I can’t wait! And suddenly today I have this overwhelming feeling of gratitude, happiness and peacefulness about my baby.

And then I got to work, and looked at the date: June 15. One year after going into the doctor at 8 ½ weeks, blissfully pregnant, excited to show my husband the heartbeat. And then realizing that there was no longer a heartbeat. I think back to that date, one year ago, and it seems like a lifetime has passed. What a long year it has been. I miss that little guy – so very much. But if I had that baby, I wouldn’t have the baby that is in my belly today. It’s so hard to think of one without the other. I’m not a big believer in “things happen for a reason.” This phrase would upset me to no end when people would tell me that after my ectopic last year, and then especially after my little one’s heartbeat stopped. I think it fed into my fear about not being able to have kids because I wasn’t supposed to be a mother. But today, I really wish I didn’t have to go through what I did last year, and I really wish we had that baby we lost, but I feel like a different person today after going through it all. I believe that all the heartache, all the tears I shed, it all shaped me into the woman I am today. One that is so incredibly grateful for the baby I currently hold inside me today.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop

I’ve been good. I’ve been positive, planning for the future, expecting the baby to come, not obsessing, not reading the loss stories on the internet, expecting my baby to come. Sure, I may use the Doppler occasionally, but I’ll only do it if I have time to deal with the bad consequences. Is it weird that I won’t do it in the morning before I go to work, or if I have something planned that day? Sure, I always have a plan when going to appointments – who to call, where I’ll go, what to do – if the appointment is bad. I know this sounds morbid, but overall I’ve been positive, really!

Last week I went into the doc for some blood work – the second part of the screening, I think it’s called the integrated screening. The first part came back at around 12 weeks, and it was great. I have very low risk for 3 trisomy issues, including Downs. I almost forgot about this second part, but it’s amazing how quickly I can get scared. Someone was in my office this morning talking about something important, and my cell phone rang. I immediately turned it off, and it wasn’t until I turned it off that I realized the call was from my doctor. I continued to talk to the person in my office for another 10 minutes, and I could barely pay attention. He kept asking me questions, and I think I answered, but I was in a complete terror. What if this is how I find out that there’s something wrong? As soon as the person left my office, I checked my voice mail and there was a message from the nurse to call her. She didn’t sound upset, but maybe she always sounds like that! I called her back, and of course got her voice mail. For the next two hours, I didn’t go anywhere without my cell, wondering what the results would be.

The results were fine. They screened for open neural tube defects, and for women over 35, the chance is 1:300. Based on all my blood work, I have a 1:2,886 chance, so this is great. There was no reason to worry, and everything is fine. What a relief! But why do I immediately jump to the conclusion that something must be wrong with my baby? There are no indications that anything could be wrong. I’ve had a relatively good pregnancy so far – some symptoms, a little spotting but not much, a subchorionic hematoma that went away, but nothing huge. I have absolutely NO reason to think that anything will go wrong! And yet… I worry. I know this is normal, that most pregnant women do this, and those of us that are infertile and have losses in our past are even worse. That all of the research that I’ve done over the last few years only increases my worry, as I know all the things that can go wrong. But I wish I could simply relax and not worry. I don’t know that I ever will. From now on, even after the baby is born (healthy!!! Please!), I will worry, and I have to simply get used to this way of life. But it’s hard, it’s so very hard, when I discover that all I’m doing is waiting for something to go wrong.

It's My Birthday!

It's my birthday - today I turn 36 years old. And it sounds old, doesn't it? Oh well, it's just a number. But it sounds so...adult! Overall, I'm fine with my birthday, and turning 36 - it's just another number, but it's my last year in my mid-30's... It makes me think though, would I be reacting differently if I wasn't pregnant? And the answer is definitely yes.

So I'm incredibly grateful to be pregnant - 17 weeks today - on my birthday. We're having a relaxing time, slept in, went to lunch, and then we'll go out to dinner with some friends. Hopefully my last kid-free birthday in a very long time!