burnt toast life

is there anything more beautiful…

…than the flicker of a fetal heartbeat? No sir, I do not think there is.

Absence of the f-bomb in the title should tell you that today went well. Today went perfectly! But here’s the part that may shock you: I knew it would.

Yes, Ms. Worrywart, Ms. Anxiety, Ms. Worst-Possible-Case Scenario was remarkably calm in the days leading up to this appointment. I even tried to worry, but was met with a resounding voice from the inside that said, “Everything is going to be OK.”

Seriously… I wasn’t even that nervous until I actually arrived at the appointment. The lab makes you arrive with a full bladder, which is stupid, because everyone knows that at 6 or 7 weeks they’ll end up doing an internal anyway. After exclaiming over just how WELL I filled it (I think he said, “Wow! It’s huge!”) the tech did some quick measurements and photos before – you guessed it – telling me that we’d need to do a transvaginal ultrasound. I love when they ask if I’m “familiar with that.” HA! Infertile girls could probably do them on themselves.

Anyway, when he was still using the external doppler thingy, I couldn’t really see anything in the sac, so I did have a brief moment of panic where I was afraid he’d say, “Uh oh, there’s nothing in there.” But really, it turned out to be my enormous bladder in the way, I guess (did I mention I’m up to 2 gallons of water a day?). I had already given a bit of background and pleaded that he tell me anything he saw, to the extent that he could. Two agonizing minutes later, the internal started. There was a baby, measuring exactly where I expected at 6 weeks 5 days (this information he volunteered with no prompting. Incredible!). Then there was the flicker. The beautiful, magical, intoxicating flicker that he pointed out and even complimented. Then there were the tears of relief. It felt so amazing to hear good news for once.

Something else that I got today that no one has ever given me before (officially): a due date. Based on measurements, it’s looking like June 18th. But because I’m banking on this kid being a girl, and because every girl in my entire family is born on a Sunday, I say June 15th. Which is…drum roll, please…Father’s Day. Is there anything more perfect than that? I can’t even express how badly I want to give Eric this gift on that day.

Yes, my friends, I’ve gone from worrying about day-to-day viability to predicting a due date. Am I crazy? I can’t explain it, I just feel… calm. Zen. Like everything is going to work out. And yes, I have a lot of emotional attachment to this little ‘un. I don’t want to say, “This is our baby,” because that would imply that the previous ones weren’t. But I think this IS our time. It’s the right time. I just have a really good feeling about it; I can picture it happening. We still have a ways to go before I’m actually content and out of fear’s way, but today was a huge step in the right direction.

Symptoms, I have few, like pretty much nonstop nausea that’s not reached the point of actual puking yet, but is mildly uncomfortable. The thought of eating is quite repulsive. One particular problem is a sudden and intense aversion to all meat besides bacon. Which is a huuuuge problem because meat is one of my main sources of fuel on this crazy bland diet. But ugh…even the thought of meat of any kind makes me wanna hurl. Well, everything except bacon. Eggs are still tolerable, so at least I’ll have some protein, but I worry a little about proper nutrition here. After 12 weeks, I plan to experiment a teeny tiny bit with adding things back into my diet, like gluten-free snacks and stuff. I’ve never wanted brownies so badly in my life, but those I really can’t have. However, they do make a gluten-free version, so yay! Maybe gluten was my problem this whole time. That really blows my mind.

I’m getting ahead of myself. Technically, we haven’t made it any further than we did before, since my last “bad” ultrasound was at 7w1d, and today is earlier than that. BUT last time I had bad signs leading up to that. Last time at this point, I had the “heartbeat too slow” ultrasound. I know it’s so stupid to get my hopes up here, but I feel like this day is a milestone. Just like next week will be. The week after that? Huge.

One thing that I do know is that positive energy is helpful, so I’m just going with it. I hope I can keep this good attitude going. And survive a whole week until the next go ’round. Please let it go quickly….haha, yeah right.

DRAMAnda

No, not Dr. Amanda…Drama Amanda. Dramanda. Making mountains out of molehills since 1984.

As you may imagine, my beta was good today: 19,963. Not that it was an easy thing to get – I called the lab at 7:30 this morning and had them re-fax the results. Called New Hope at 9 to see if they got them…they didn’t. Called the lab back to re-fax ONCE AGAIN. Called New Hope. Alas, they had them! Not that they could tell me what they said. I begged the receptionist to hand-deliver them to a nurse and tell her to call me, “preferably before midnight.” I finally got an email at 1:30. Not bad. But by then my poor brain was about to explode. I was also experiencing cramps, which of course I talked myself into believing was the big M/C. But now that I have good news, I’ve managed to swing it around to “growing pains.” Hopefully.

So I live to see another day! But you know what this means…Ultrasound. Monday. And not at New Hope this time (because I don’t have any vacation time accrued yet). Instead, I’ll be going to a lab, where they won’t be able to give me results in real time. So I’ll have to wait for New Hope to call with the outcome (if they get the fax, of course). So I could potentially be sitting at my desk in an open cubicle and hear the “no heartbeat” news. What will I do? Get up and leave? Fall to the ground? No, none of these things. Because this baby will have a good, strong heartbeat and that phone call will be happy, happy, happy. Right?!

And in more overreacting for no reason news… I talked with HR this morning (or more accurately, pounced on the poor woman the moment she walked into the building) and confirmed that we do get maternity leave coverage separate from Aflac. So the whole 10 month thing doesn’t matter. Phew! Again, my overreacting caused a bunch of unnecessary freak outs last night. All over nothing. I still need to save up since obviously it won’t be my full salary (did you know that legally they’re not allowed to pay you full salary for maternity leave? That’s so ridiculous!) but at least I won’t have to save the entire amount. And I’ll get more than 2 weeks. Thank God.

I feel a little silly about yesterday. I think the stress of this is really getting to me. We’re reaching a critical juncture here – 7 weeks. Last time that’s when I found out it was over. So even making it past that date will be significant. 9 weeks will be SUPER significant. 12 weeks will allow me to start actually breathing again.

Eric is ready to strangle me. I think it’s because he’s usually the “freak-outer” and I’m usually the “let’s calm-downer.” When I freak out, he freaks out on top of that, and the result it two crazy people yelling at each other over nothing. That pretty much sums up my night last night. What I really needed was for someone to tell me, “Calm down, everything will be OK.” But that’s not his style. He probably fancies himself a pragmatist, but I say he’s more of a pessimist. Always anticipating the worst possible scenario. That is great for managing expectations and not getting hopes up (therefore avoiding disappointment), but not when you have a wife one step away from a nervous breakdown. My neuroses that I work so hard on maintaining manifest themselves as extreme “bitchiness,” as he calls it. I do; I definitely do take it out on him. Because he’s there. But I can’t help it. I just need to make it to December and I swear things will be so much better.

OK, I said the cramps were no longer worrisome but I totally lied. They’re freaking me out. Anyone else cramp up
around 6 weeks?

If anyone needs me, I’ll be hiding out under the covers for about a week. See ya.