Zero To One Thousand Sixty

So like I was saying in my last post, it's reeeealy truly hit me that this is it. We have like 17 more days until our due date. SEVENTEEN DAYS!!! What the mother fuck??? 

I'm currently operating on three speeds: 

1. Drop dead exhausted

2. Wired like a meth head

3. Cranky bitch who wants to, but can't seem to get enough done. And no you can't help cause you won't do it right. (I believe the books poetically refer to this as "nesting", but I also currently believe the authors are morons.)

I'm going to blame that last speed on my current state of consistent sleep deprivation. Cause oh my hell does trying to sleep suck my ass. Being in bed is barely tolerable and then I have to get up to pee. And turning over in bed is harder than trying to like the Twilight movies. (I want so badly to love them as much as I did the books, but sweet Jesus does Kristen Stewart suck {ha ha} what little talent is in the cast to begin with out of those movies. Taylor Lautner is almost as bad but at least he serves as a little piece of eye candy.) What was I talking about? Sleep. Right. It sucketh mightily. But I fully understand that this is my body's way of preparing me to be up every two hours feeding and taking care of my sweet baby. In that case? I'M READY, YO.

Belly Wise all sorts of things are a happenin' in/on there. More stretch marks, yay. And cheese and crackers has Round Ligament pain come back with a vengeance. I guess that's because my uterus is the size of Nebraska, and it's getting harder for those little ligaments to haul all that weight around. 

 I'm fairly certain the kiddo is getting pretty cramped in there too. The last few days it feels like he/she has been doing squat-thrusts and lunges in an attempt to make more room in there. Which sounds adorable, and believe me I'm pretty sure I'll miss it some day, but right now it's getting to the point where it just plain hurts.

More than once I've mistaken my fingers for Vienna Sausages. My poor hands are getting so swollen that I have resorted to wearing this ghetto fabulous little number that I got from a Bachelorette party like a million years ago: 

I know it seems nuts, but the stones in the ring are so absurdly large that it makes my fingers seem not-so-corndog-like. Seriously by the afternoon, the lines around my knuckles are disturbingly smooth.

The girls. TMI warning - they haven't gotten any larger but something in them is a brewin'. I've been noticing little droplets of liquid from them since around 28 weeks, but it's getting more consistent now. And if I massage my breasts a little I can actually sort of make stuff come out. It looks like both colostrum and milk. Kinda crazy, kinda cool. 

In the five days we have made an obscene amount of progress in getting ready for baby. 

The furniture is finally in

Curtains are up

The baby's laundry is completely done, folded and put away 

Car seat is installed - though we still need to run it by a fire station to have it okay'd (for peace of mind)

Here is Brian being all ridiculously cute and daddy-like installing said car seat:

Bassinet is put together

Hospital Bag is 70% ready to go

- I know I should have had that done weeks ago, but read my last post if you're still not following. Ten percent of the missing items I need to shop for and the other twenty percent are last minute things we can't pack until it's actually time to go. 

And helping to make it all Super DUPER real: Friday is my last day of work!

So it's umm, well after midnight here and I am WIDE awake-asaurus- rex. 

Think I'll go mow the lawn or something! 

PEACE. 

Oh! I added two new pics to the Photo Gallery. One is a belly pic and the other is  a last minute u/s they ordered for a growth check on account of my MTHFR. Baby is measuring in the 43rd percentile. 

Enjoy!

My Horizon's

Warning: This is a super TMI pg post, so if you’re not in a good place, yamight wanna skip this one and I promise I’ll still love you anyway.

Lots of new developments in the last week or so. None of them extraordinary, but a few of them have taken me by surprise. I’m not going to sugar coat this first one folks, but holy crap my jugs are getting HUGE. You might remember that I usually refer to them as “the girls”, but dude, that reference is no longer applicable. They. Are. Jugs. Gozanga’s even.  A few weeks ago I noticed that I was starting to outgrow my regular bra’s so I was like, “Okay, cool, this is normal…” and I switched over to my “fat bras”. Read: Bras I had kept from before I lost 36+ lbs last year. Saved myself a little quiche right there, I did. However, not three weeks later, I am already muffin-topping out of them! Gah. My jugs are so full and heavy, and my veins read like a Metro Map. I could create an app based on my chest that would probably rival g.oogle maps. It’s out of control, really. 

THEN, the other day, I was walking through the house scratching my stomach when my finger found its way into my belly button, and cheese and crackers folks, it’s… it’s getting shallow. I used to be able to fit an entire fingertip in there, now it only goes about halfway. FREAKY. But cool. 

Oh, good news! I got my last NK Assay and TH1/TH2 follow up test. They came back: NORMAL. My favorite nurse called to tell me personally that everything looked great and I am officially released to my OB. RELEASED TO MY OB. She told me how happy she was for us, and asked that we keep them posted. I told her how very much we enjoyed working with her, and how grateful we were for all of her help. I was actually in the middle of shopping at Trad.er.Jo.es for my lunch when she called. I had a hard time staying composed in the frozen section while taking in exactly what our conversation actually meant… This is all really happening. And it’s going by so, so fast.

We’ve started looking at baby stuff. CRAZY. Brian is going to build the crib and changing table, so we went to a couple of fancy-shmancy boutiques to pilfer designs.  I know you might be picturing Brian with a glue gun surrounded by a pile of kindling, but this isn’t like a DIY project that I would get great “I told you so” satisfaction from. He is quite capable I assure you, and I can’t wait to show you how amazing his woodworking skills are…  And we’re going to choose a design that will convert to a head and foot board, so it’s something we can keep for a long time. Which makes me smile. It’s nice to feel excited and not quite as scared. I’m slowly letting my guard down, and this new world is just amazing. If you haven’t seen it yet, I hope you join me very, VERY soon. 

Here

If I had a nickel for all the draft posts I’ve written over the last two weeks, I could probably help pay for an IUI cycle. But I’m in such a weird place, I’m having a hard time finding the words. And I’m feeling really strange about posting pregnancy related stuff here for a few reasons. 1. In all my day dreams about actually being pregnant, I imagined starting a new blog for just pregnancy stuff, while keeping this an IF place. 2. This whole pregnancy thing? Still not very real to me. I have accepted it on an intellectual level, but it’s still kind of difficult to wrap my head around. I had another u/s last Friday and part of me wondered if they were just playing a tape on the monitor. No joke. And even as we drove home I stared at the little gummy bear like figure in the shaded photo, and could hardly grasp the concept that it was a picture from my insides. It’s just so bizarre.

I’ve had several breakdowns feeling like things were over – triggered by fluctuating or lack of symptoms and just plain fear. We told Brian’s parents two weeks ago, because his Mom is going through Chemo and we felt like she could use a boost. They are over the moon, and it most certainly did lift my MIL’s spirits. It was fun to tell them, but pretty surreal, and it prompted an influx of irrational thoughts. Superstitious thoughts. And I’m not really a superstitious person. Telling them is sort of what prompted me to wait to tell my family. And I still can’t put my finger on why. It’s like I’m afraid there is a quota for happiness and we’re getting close to the end our allotment. Which I know makes no fucking sense at all.

So the whole 'start a new blog' thing… Part of me felt like starting up someplace new would be my show of respect to those still fighting the fight. They could still “know me” and count me as a sister without being bombarded by the evidence that I was lucky enough to get to the other side of all this after just one IVF cycle (not that I’m completely on the other side). Please know that I realize how fortunate I am to have fallen on the right side of the 60% success rate. Truly, I do. But another part of me thought about how much I’ve come to love this place, and how much history it holds. Albeit a mostly painful history, but in a strange way I’m proud of all the crap we’ve been through. I also thought about the many blogs I continued to read even though they had crossed over to pregnancy and even parenthood. I still loved them as sisters. They still know the hurt, they’re just in a different phase of life.  So the jury is still out on whether I’ll start up some place new, but for now I’ll keep posting here. If you’re not up for reading anything pregnancy related I’ll suggest you stop reading now. For the immediate future I will be using this place to document my transition from infertility to pregnancy. Weird.

So today I am 9 weeks and 4 days. When I look back to the day we first saw our positive test it seems like so long ago, though each individual week passes like molasses. Symptom wise, the fatigue has finally kicked in full gear. Yes, I was a bit tired before, but not to the extreme so many other women talked about. I was tired by the end of the day but by no means exhausted. As of about four days ago I am officially wiped by about 1pm every day. Boobs are still tender but much more manageable, I am now able to forgo the sports bra at night. I’m using the bell.aban.d with every pair of pants I own, and last week after my second u/s I allowed myself to order some maternity jeans online. I have to get them online for two reasons. 1 I am entirely too paranoid to go into an actual store because A) I’m just not ready for that. B) I’m terrified to be seen by someone I know. C) In the very back of my mind there is the irrational superstition that buying something could mean the worst for our little one. Yes, I’m aware that I’m insane. And 2. I’m 5’10 with a 34 inch inseam. I usually have to buy most of my jeans/pants online anyway, so it’s no biggie. I still doubt that I’m showing but I’m a little doughy and bloaty and it’s really uncomfortable to suck it in or have any kind of pressure on my abdomen. So maternity pants it is, however premature that may be. Food wise, the nausea has let up a bit, though I am prone to a sour stomach. The only aversion I have right now is to anything sweet, which seems moderately blasphemous because I’ve had a pretty big sweet tooth my entire life. Part of me wonders if this is really my kid. (KIDDING). Dairy, I heart dairy. I’ve been plowing through 1 gallon jugs of 2% milk since about 5 weeks. I drink it as a snack on a pretty regular basis, it’s also very good at helping to settle my stomach. I’m looking forward our next u/s which will be next Thursday (the 26th). I’ll do my best to get the pic up from my most recent u/s before the next appointment. 

I guess the last thing is just to thank you all again for your amazing support, and the sincerity behind your congratulations to me. It’s been overwhelming, in such a very good way.

Adjusting...

There is a lot more to absorb emotionally with all this pregnancy business than I was prepared for. I’ve followed dozens of bloggers throughout their pregnancies, and I definitely recall your emotional battle, particularly in the early weeks. But I have to say, I kind of assumed you were just trying to be nice.  Like a peace offering to those of us still in the trenches – “DON’T LEAVE ME, I’m still infertile at heart!!!”… But the truth is you suddenly feel like you don’t belong to the one place you hold dearest, and though you finally fall into the category you wanted the most, it’s not what you thought it would be... I’m 6 weeks 3 days today, but really all that means is two weeks ago some blood work suggested that I’m pregnant. It’s like I know it on an intellectual level, but my heart is still trying to catch up. I suppose our first u/s this weekend will make everything more real. Then again, maybe it's just the fog of fatigue that's muffling my giddiness.

Physically, I’m feeling less and less like my old self. Which is comforting. The fatigue is definitely there. The cramping has subsided, just a few pangs here and there, mostly at night. Bloating, oy the bloating. I had to cave and buy one of those Be.lla band things. Not because I’m by any means showing, but the OHSS bloat comes back with a vengeance in the afternoons and it’s really uncomfortable to have any kind of pressure or constriction on my abdomen.  Am I lame? Did anyone else need “assistance” this early??? And to tell you the truth, I’ve always been a big fan of elastic waistbands, now I have a really great excuse to wear one every day. Here’s to not sucking it in for the next eight months! The girls – they are still extraordinarily sore. A big thank you to Carli who text me about opting for a sports bra at night – holy hell that saved me… But I have to say the most difficult symptom is the slowed bowels. I am popping Colace like tic tacs over here…. Ugh. But I’m not complaining. I’m incredibly grateful for the reason(s) I have each one of those symptoms. Seriously, I smile through every trip to tinkle at 12, 2, 4, and 6am.

So our ultrasound is this weekend. It was initially set for Saturday, but we had some family stuff come up and I had to move it back one day. Even though it sucks to push it back, it’ll be better for everyone this way.  Brian and I are obviously pretty excited. As of right now, I’m thinking it’s just one. Actually I’ve always felt that way, but I suppose we’ll see soon enough. You’ve all been exceptionally amazing with your thoughtful and helpful comments. And I continue to be truly grateful.