Surreal Moments

Since discovering I was pregnant, there have been a few moments that have been quite surreal. (Not to mention that first HPT). Some of them "big" moments, and some that would be otherwise ordinary or meaningless. Like the other day, I was on the phone with Mister. His company is changing health insurance plans/options (again) in January, and we had to pick our plan for enrollment. We were looking through the three or four plan choices (all with the same mega company) and were settling on one. Then it came up that I had better check with XYZ Hospital to make sure they were a preferred provider with that particular plan. Because that is where Dr. Wunnerful is affiliated, and therefore where I plan to give birth. Give. Birth. I had to stop and say to Mister, "I can't believe we're even having this discussion."

This time last year we were looking at health plan options and trying to see which one had the best (or any) infertility coverage.

Our new plan has NO coverage for infertility, incidentally... of course I had to look, because, you know, I was curious. I pray to God I DO give birth at XYZ Hospital, at the appropriate time, that all is well, and I'll not ever have to worry about Infertility benefits again.

As Seen at the Check Out Stand

So I was waiting in line at Who.le Foo.ds yesterday, and perusing the magazines at the check stand. My eye settled on an issue of The Ec.onomist which had an image of a baby falling through the sky. The headline read: Falling Fertility. The sub-line read: How the Population Problem Is Taking Care of Itself.

I clutched my stomach and suppressed an outburst. All I could think was, "How dare they! How insensitive! How cruel!" I felt somehow personally attacked.

What if the headline had read, "Increase in Cancer--How the Population Problem is Taking Care of Itself"? What would happen then?

Sure, maybe I'm overreacting. Infertility won't kill you. But it sure as hell can destroy your life: Wreck your marriage, damage your friendships, kill your bank account, blast your self-esteem. Make you question your faith, relationships, your entire existence. Not to mention wreak havoc on your body should you choose to pursue fertility treatment. Those struggling with Infertility almost assuredly also struggle with depression, stress, anxiety. Just like cancer, or any other major illness--Infertility is a life-altering experience.

It's not funny. Cute floating baby or no.

I'm just sayin'.

What do you think?

Infertility 'Survivor' Guilt, Part One

I don't have a lot of friends in Real Life who have dealt with infertility issues. But there are a couple. I do, of course, have a lot of 'friends' on the internet who most definitely have, and are, struggling with infertility, loss(es), waiting to adopt, considering child-free living...you name it. And here I am. One absolutely, positively miracle-fast, constructed-right-in-heaven adoption under my belt, and now, pregnant. With, what we might call here in our little Infertility realm, 'a Freebie', no less.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't waste a whole lot of time feeling guilty. After all, I've been pretty much posting pregnancy updates on my INFERTILITY blog, with relish and abandon. (However, I promise all of you out there, that I will never, never put one of those creepy floating fetus calendar thingies on my blog. Uh-uh. No offense to those of you that have them, but as a person who has been pining for pregnancy for over 5 years, that was always one of the hardest things for me to look at. As happy as I might be for my fellow IF bloggers who achieved pregnancy, the floating fetus just made me have to look away. But that's just me.)

But as usual, I digress.

I have a IF 'friend' who became pregnant from an IVF cycle right around the same time as I discovered I was pregnant. Only to miscarry at 8 weeks. Crushing. Another 'friend' on my High FSH support board was due the same exact day as me, and sadly, lost the baby at 12 weeks.

And here I sit. Pregnant. (Though you wouldn't know it by looking at me). Not that I am saying I feel guilty enough to trade it all in. Nooooo. I feel totally justified and smug, after 5 + years to be pregnant. I feel like sending a big "F-You" letter to that first RE that told me I'd never be pregnant (without DE). But, I do feel bad for others' pain, and sometimes feel like just me sitting here being pregnant is somehow smashing it in their faces. It's not, I know. It just Is. I know from being NOT pregnant for so long that other IFers getting pregnant is the least of the problem. Every time you step out your door there's a pregnant woman walking by. Or a whole group of them. Or it's your sister, your younger cousin, your sister in law, or all of them at once announcing they're pregnant. They're everywhere. If it's going to happen for someone else, it might as well be for a fellow IFer. But still...

In a way the thing I feel guilty about is that when I watched these other ladies' dreams unravel in miscarriage, the first thought was, "Oh no! It could happen to me! They are at the same stage in their pregnancy as me, what if it happens to me! What if I miscarry again, too?!" I was so convinced, for those first 10 weeks or so that this stroke of luck I was having was just too good to be true, that the other shoe must drop sooner or later, that I truly was not enjoying being pregnant. I worried at every moment that something would go wrong. I fretted. I stressed. I drove my husband (and probably Dr. Wunnerful) crazy a bit. And when I witnessed others' losses, my heart went out to them, I cried for them, but truly, I panicked for myself as well.

But I just couldn't believe my friends, family (and doctor) when they told me, repeatedly, everything is going fine. Relax, everything is going to BE just fine. Or, at the very least, "there's nothing you can do now to make it happen or not happen. So just relax."

Relax? Bah.

But then, lately, it's changed. After I ran in for an 'emergency' ultrasound in my 10th week because I wasn't having any pregnancy symptoms and I was feeling crampy (and that is just another reason why I love Dr. Wunnerful--he humors me with these things) only to see that little squirrel in there doing somersaults (really--spinning around like crazy. Eee gads. Might I have another hyper boy on my hands?) I just decided to give in and relax. It really is going to be ok. I really. am. pregnant. And, yes, bad shit could still happen. But I choose to believe that it won't. Because, when I thought about it more, I realized something. I have been living under this cloud of suspicion for so long that God or the Universe or whatever had it out for me. That, if Bad Shit was going to happen, it would happen to me. But really, I've had it backwards. Because, a lot of really Good Shit has happened to me. Could our adoption story have been more nearly perfect? We didn't get what we wanted (pregnancy. fertility) so we then declared to the Universe we wanted to adopt. And we got it. Right. Fucking. Then. And what about this whole economic shit storm the whole country is in? Sure, our financial picture has been pretty murky lo these many years. Infertility and adoption expenses didn't help. Sure it'll be a long time now before we move out of our tiny shit box of a house, but. Big break! My husband (God willing) is still gainfully employed! Woo Hoo! And even though we owe more on our little house than it is worth now, we have a house. We are not in immediate peril of foreclosure. So, you know, Good Shit.

And then there's the pregnancy. I spent many a long, sleepless night, out on the couch, crying, and having long talks with God in the months before I became pregnant. Knowing, realistically, IVF was still out of our reach. We could do the medicated IUI's (maybe 3) and that would most likely be it. Things were pretty dark. My marriage was on thin ice. My husband admitted recently, that he figured if I never became pregnant, we might be headed, eventually, for divorce, so unhappy was I. "What," he asked pragmatically, "was the alternative, really?" I couldn't answer. He was right.

In my late night pow-wows with God, I'd finally surrendered. I'd said, "You have a plan. I have no freaking idea what it is, but I'm tired of fighting it. If it is in your plan for us to have another baby, through fertility treatments, donor eggs, or adoption, then please show me the way. I will do what little I can with what little ability I have here on earth to make the pregnancy thing happen, and then, God, it's all up to you. Show me what to do." I secretly imagined asking my 20-something niece if I could merely have a few of her eggs. (Was that God's plan perhaps?) I was moving past the point of hoping it would somehow, just miraculously 'happen' for us.

And then it did.

NT Screen Results

"Screen Negative"!

Risk of Downs: 1 in 1,900

Risk of Trisomy 18: 1 in 44,000

We have an appointment set up already with the genetic counselor but I'll probably cancel it for now. We'll do the second tri screening as well. Assuming all goes well on the second test then I will definitely NOT be doing an amnio. WOOT!!!

Guess my 37-year-old supposedly pre-menopausal, high FSH, tired eggs aren't so shabby after all (well, at least one good one must have slipped through).

Saw Dr. Wunnerful today for regularly scheduled check-up. My appointment was short and sweet: A quick listen to the baby's heartbeat (157) and a little kick!

NT Scan--Lots of pregnancy stuff mentioned

I had my NT scan yesterday! I had been a little nervous leading up to it but it went really well. I had to go to another facility--it was not something that they could do at my regular Gyno's office. It is really amazing to see this little creature that is actually inside of me! I look down at my stomach, and it doesn't really look like I am pregnant--maybe just that I've had a big lunch. Yet, there he or she was, up on the screen, rolling around, waving his hands, even sucking his thumb. And, I experienced a pregnancy 'milestone'. It was the first ultrasound I've had that was the kind where they squeeze the goop on your tummy and use the doppler (no more dildocam!). I had imagined myself in that scenario for years--whenever I would daydream and imagine myself as a pregnant mom-to-be. Then, after the years of infertility, I thought about it less and less often (or didn't allow myself to) because I wasn't sure it would ever actually happen. And there I was.....truly amazing. Also, heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time. The best sound ever.

I feel truly amazed and blessed, and grateful. Not only for this miracle-surprise pregnancy, but in a weird way, for the infertility, too. If it weren't for not being able to conceive, if it weren't for being told 'you only have a 1% chance of ever conceiving' then we never would have adopted. And then we wouldn't have Handsome Man. If I'd never experienced the pain of infertility, would I be as in awe of this little creature growing inside of me? I would be in awe of course, but, I just think it's different for me, now, then it might have been if we'd conceived easily.

Results from the scan + bloodwork in about 10 days--but the cute (very gay) Doogie Howser of a doctor that did my scan said the measurements looked nice and normal. Yay! Of course, he encouraged me to make the appointment with the Genetic Counselor after we get our results because, you know, I'm old. 37. Oooold timer.

Perfect Moment Monday

My perfect moment happened yesterday. Despite still being in quite a bit of pain from my car accident (my lower back and left hip, mostly) I got myself and Handsome Man in the car (p.s. I love my new car--but I digress) and schlepped an hour away to go to my friend J's son's 2-year birthday party. The party was held at one of those 'kiddy gyms'. I couldn't really keep up with Handsome Man around the gym floor too well, but luckily it was a safe, fun place for him to run, climb, and explore. (And burn off the sugar from the awesome birthday cupcakes my friend J. made for the party.) Our perfect moment happened when Handsome Man discovered the ball pit. You know, that big vat of lightweight, colorful balls that looks soooo fun. Well, it is fun! I was able to get my sorry butt inside the pit, and could sit down fairly comfortably. After weeks of not really being able to play and roughhouse with my Handsome Man, I finally felt involved in his fun, like I was being the fun mommy he's been missing out on. The look of utter joy on his face as he 'swam' around in the ball pit, and as we 'covered' each other with the balls was so beautiful. And as I sat there, with him, playing and having fun, with the sounds of the other children's' laughs and squeals around the room filling the air, I just felt so happy. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but I swear I felt like I was having one of those Hal.mark Card commercial moments. I almost started crying, but I was laughing too hard. I am so lucky to have this kid. I never could have dreamed up a child as wonderful as my Handsome Man. And even though I am still recovering from my injuries, the pain is, in a way, a reminder of how lucky I am: lucky to be here...to enjoy these moments.

Still Pregnant at 9 weeks

Last Thursday I had my appointment with Dr. Wunnerful. I was exactly 9 weeks. Mister finally got to come to an appointment, and was able to see the heartbeat. What a relief!! I was trying to prepare myself for the worst. My doctor was running behind and we waited almost a whole hour past our appointment time before we got in. Sweaty palms time. Of course, once I saw that beautiful heartbeat (sort of--the doctor had to point it out to me on the screen) I didn't care how long I had had to wait--it was worth it. (After waiting 5 plus years, what's an extra anxiety-filled hour, right?). Baby measured 9w4d and according to Dr. Wunnerful everything looks great. Of course almost a week has gone by and although I originally felt relieved and relaxed, I am starting to be a little nervous again. I wish I could have a scan every week. My next appointment with Dr. Wunnerful isn't for another 4 weeks or so. I will be scheduling the NT scan at another facility before then, though. Hoping that appointment goes well and praying daily that the little, uh, squirrel is continuing to grow. My only consistent pregnancy symptom is that I am really tired. All the time. I've had some queasiness that comes and goes. Sometimes preventing me from getting enough to eat. But, the past few days the queasiness has subsided somewhat. That should make me happy but of course I wonder if it means anything bad.... but in general I'm more relaxed than before. Making it to that 9 week ultrasound was a huge milestone for us.

Work is nuts and of course I'm still behind after being gone for 2 weeks after my accident. I have had a lot of help, though. Between my ongoing recovery from the accident and being preggers, I just can't function at the level I'm used to. And as I said, I'm tired all the time, so I am really looking forward to the "off-season" so that I can relax a bit and hopefully catch up on some stuff around the house and some other projects for the business that I just don't have time to do right now. Oh, and sleep. Lots and lots of sleep....zzzzz