So my period was due today. It's 8:22pm on Thursday, October 23, and there are no signs of it.
I wasn't expecting it either. On Sunday, I got a positive pregnancy test. Actually, I got five of them. And then ten more between Sunday and today. I think with each of the previous two pregnancies, I took about 3 tests each. But this was the first time that I had a supply or Internet "cheapie" strip tests, as well as a few boxes of the more traditional plastic stick tests. And who doesn't want to see the word "pregnant" on a digital? And then I had heard of these cheap tests at Walmart where you get to use an eye-dropper, and so my scientific interest was piqued.... I may have gone a little overboard with purchasing pregnancy tests in the weeks after ovulation. But now that I have all of them, I feel like it would be pessimistic of me not to pee on them, right? Like I'm assuming that I'll need them for a future pregnancy?
Anyway, I don't feel a need to justify myself. This pregnancy is different. With my other two, I thought I would be a "crazy peestick lady" if I took a test before my period was late. And I was shaking in my shoes when I took those tests. This time, I tested early. 8 DPO: negative. 9 DPO: negative. 10 dpo, 2am while visiting our friends in Stevens Point: just barely a line -- so faint that Ben couldn't see it and I have to hold it just so in order to spot it. 10 DPO 6pm, after getting home from our road trip back from Wisconsin: clear positives on five tests.
There has been a downside to testing early, which is that once I had tested, I was pregnant (yay!) and had to adjust to all the pregnancy taboos (nay!), but still didn't feel like it was real. I strongly suspected that my period would come right on time and it would be like it had never happened. My abundant supply of cheap pregnancy tests has helped, though, and I have enjoyed watching the lines get darker each day. It's fascinating!
It also helped when the scheduling person at the OB-GYN clinic didn't hesitate to schedule me for an intake appointment at 8 weeks, despite the fact that it had been less than 4 weeks since my last menstrual period when I called. I was so surprised! I have never had an appointment that starts with an ultrasound before, as this is not how my midwife practice works. I had expected the first appointment to not be until 10 weeks, and that I would have to call ahead and claim "confusion" over my dates in order to get an ultrasound at 8 weeks for my own reassurance. I was very pleased that I could come in for a routine ultrasound and intake at 8 weeks -- exactly when I had hoped to have my first ultrasound, since our second pregnancy loss occurred at 7 and a half weeks, but wasn't discovered until 11 weeks, and that discrepancy had played a large role in the trauma of our loss.
As strange as it may sound, I actually feel less anxious then I thought I would have. I'm not sure how to explain that, as I had expected to feel absolutely terrified. And I am feeling even fewer symptoms than last time. And when I went in for the ovarian cyst, the urgent care doctor seemed to suggest that he thought I had a low chance of conceiving that cycle and should have waited because my lining would not yet be able to sustain a pregnancy. (He's not an OB-GYN, but the last thing I needed to hear on the day of ovulation was that any conception that might occur was unlikely to be followed
by healthy implantation.)
I can't explain it. So much seems stacked against us. But in the end, I think I just have a lot more trust that things will be okay. No matter what might happen tomorrow, my pregnancy test is pinker today than it was yesterday, and I am going to try not to let fear prevent me from enjoying my little poppyseed.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Monday, October 13, 2014
Update
So it's been awhile.
Greta is approaching her 19 month birthday. We've had many ups and downs since our last post. Life has been full of new challenges, joys and sorrows and it's been difficult to keep up on here.
On July 4th, we found out that we were expecting another baby. We spent the next few months toughing out the morning sickness, preparing for a two-year age gap between kiddos, and announcing the pregnancy to some friends and family as we saw them.
We were devastated when we found out at an 11-week ultrasound that the baby had passed away a few weeks earlier. I had had no bleeding. No warning signs except the fact that my midwife couldn't find the heartbeat at my 10-week appointment. This hadn't surprised me, since the same thing had happened when I was pregnant with Greta and our follow-up ultrasound with her had revealed a squirming baby. We had gone into our ultrasound this time with the expectation that we would be reassured, not blindsided.
I could write a vivid entry on the painful experience of that day. As much as it is all a blur, I also remember elements with exquisite detail. The sound of the tech's voice. The images on the ultrasound. Staring blankly at Zoe Saldana's smiling face on the cover of a magazine while we waited for the OBGYN to come explain to us our options. Calling my mom to tell her what had happened. But reliving those memories only brings me more stinging tears, so I'm going to stop myself there.
I got a D&C the same day and we prepared to return to life as a family of three.
Everything since then has been a bit of a mess. A week later I nearly fainted at work and had to go to the Urgent Care to get checked out. Everything was fine -- just out of whack. A couple weeks after that, I had a dentist appointment and found out that I needed a root canal, which I got. That same week, my first period came and there were more tears. It was a very painful (literally -- I've never had cramps that bad before) reminder of what we had lost. A few weeks after that we received the pathology report telling us why the baby had died (an extra copy of chromosome 22) and that he had been a little boy. More tears. Last week I was having severe abdominal pain and found out that I'd had a ruptured ovarian cyst that was hemorrhaging fluid.
Are we feeling broken? Yes.
Greta is considerably less-broken than the rest of us. I am grateful that she is too young to understand what anguish we are suffering. Aside from a few nasty rounds of teething, she's actually thriving.
She is surprising me everyday with what she understands and what she uses her voice to say. A few examples:
She frequently requests help with getting into her little chair and being pushed in against her matching table. She then gestures to the other (tiny) chair and commands that you "sit, sit" as well. She continues this until you pretend to sit on the tiny chair, fearing all the while that you will break it.
She is starting to pronounce more "p" sounds. She says "papa" now instead of "baba" when referring to Ben. She also says "hop" more often, rather than her previous "ha." It seems as though everyday there is a new sound that she makes that sounds closer to the actual word than it did previously.
She is also walking with much more confidence. When I hold her hand and walk down the sidewalk, I don't feel like I have to slow down for her very much anymore. I can walk along with her at a nice stroll. She loves holding hands while walking down the street -- particularly if she gets one parent's finger in each of her hands and we walk with her between us. Ironically, this hand-holding interest sometimes fades at the moments when we approach an intersection, and there is some whining when she loses her walking privileges for not holding hands at the street.
Similar mini-tantrums also occasionally break out when she is required to sit in the stroller or the carseat. I am looking forward to the age at which this will pass -- particularly for the carseat, since there is no other option but to fight her until she is seated and buckled. I knew this day was coming, but it's no fun for anyone until she grows out of it. It's so frustrating to have to limit your mobility because outings aren't easy or fun with an upset toddler. Fortunately, though, she typically settles quickly after she is buckled. Whether it is the stroller or the carseat, she's actually a pretty easy-going kid.
This laid-back attitude has also made it very easy to wean, which we've just recently accomplished. I actually don't think I even did anything to wean her, per se, so it's not much of an "accomplishment." I don't even remember exactly when it was that I nursed her last. Yesterday I just turned to Ben and said, "Oh wow. I think Greta's weaned." Just like that. She'd been requesting to nurse less frequently. I'd been offering to nurse less frequently. Gradually, and yet all of a sudden, it happened. I feel bittersweet about this transition. It feels sad to stop nursing just as it gets natural and easy. On the other hand, it's nice to be fully done, rather than worrying about being forever stuck in a half-weaned limbo. I think the most important thing to me is that Greta seems totally content. Just now, I put her to bed on my own because Ben was at a work event. It was probably the first time I've done the entire bedtime routine on my own and not nursed her. It was as close to effortless as a toddler's bedtime can be. She doesn't even seem to remember that we used to nurse at this time -- which is, of course, a relief and a rejection all at the same time.
So that's our update. Joys and sorrows.
Greta is approaching her 19 month birthday. We've had many ups and downs since our last post. Life has been full of new challenges, joys and sorrows and it's been difficult to keep up on here.
On July 4th, we found out that we were expecting another baby. We spent the next few months toughing out the morning sickness, preparing for a two-year age gap between kiddos, and announcing the pregnancy to some friends and family as we saw them.
We were devastated when we found out at an 11-week ultrasound that the baby had passed away a few weeks earlier. I had had no bleeding. No warning signs except the fact that my midwife couldn't find the heartbeat at my 10-week appointment. This hadn't surprised me, since the same thing had happened when I was pregnant with Greta and our follow-up ultrasound with her had revealed a squirming baby. We had gone into our ultrasound this time with the expectation that we would be reassured, not blindsided.
I could write a vivid entry on the painful experience of that day. As much as it is all a blur, I also remember elements with exquisite detail. The sound of the tech's voice. The images on the ultrasound. Staring blankly at Zoe Saldana's smiling face on the cover of a magazine while we waited for the OBGYN to come explain to us our options. Calling my mom to tell her what had happened. But reliving those memories only brings me more stinging tears, so I'm going to stop myself there.
I got a D&C the same day and we prepared to return to life as a family of three.
Everything since then has been a bit of a mess. A week later I nearly fainted at work and had to go to the Urgent Care to get checked out. Everything was fine -- just out of whack. A couple weeks after that, I had a dentist appointment and found out that I needed a root canal, which I got. That same week, my first period came and there were more tears. It was a very painful (literally -- I've never had cramps that bad before) reminder of what we had lost. A few weeks after that we received the pathology report telling us why the baby had died (an extra copy of chromosome 22) and that he had been a little boy. More tears. Last week I was having severe abdominal pain and found out that I'd had a ruptured ovarian cyst that was hemorrhaging fluid.
Are we feeling broken? Yes.
Greta is considerably less-broken than the rest of us. I am grateful that she is too young to understand what anguish we are suffering. Aside from a few nasty rounds of teething, she's actually thriving.
She is surprising me everyday with what she understands and what she uses her voice to say. A few examples:
She frequently requests help with getting into her little chair and being pushed in against her matching table. She then gestures to the other (tiny) chair and commands that you "sit, sit" as well. She continues this until you pretend to sit on the tiny chair, fearing all the while that you will break it.
She is starting to pronounce more "p" sounds. She says "papa" now instead of "baba" when referring to Ben. She also says "hop" more often, rather than her previous "ha." It seems as though everyday there is a new sound that she makes that sounds closer to the actual word than it did previously.
She is also walking with much more confidence. When I hold her hand and walk down the sidewalk, I don't feel like I have to slow down for her very much anymore. I can walk along with her at a nice stroll. She loves holding hands while walking down the street -- particularly if she gets one parent's finger in each of her hands and we walk with her between us. Ironically, this hand-holding interest sometimes fades at the moments when we approach an intersection, and there is some whining when she loses her walking privileges for not holding hands at the street.
Similar mini-tantrums also occasionally break out when she is required to sit in the stroller or the carseat. I am looking forward to the age at which this will pass -- particularly for the carseat, since there is no other option but to fight her until she is seated and buckled. I knew this day was coming, but it's no fun for anyone until she grows out of it. It's so frustrating to have to limit your mobility because outings aren't easy or fun with an upset toddler. Fortunately, though, she typically settles quickly after she is buckled. Whether it is the stroller or the carseat, she's actually a pretty easy-going kid.
This laid-back attitude has also made it very easy to wean, which we've just recently accomplished. I actually don't think I even did anything to wean her, per se, so it's not much of an "accomplishment." I don't even remember exactly when it was that I nursed her last. Yesterday I just turned to Ben and said, "Oh wow. I think Greta's weaned." Just like that. She'd been requesting to nurse less frequently. I'd been offering to nurse less frequently. Gradually, and yet all of a sudden, it happened. I feel bittersweet about this transition. It feels sad to stop nursing just as it gets natural and easy. On the other hand, it's nice to be fully done, rather than worrying about being forever stuck in a half-weaned limbo. I think the most important thing to me is that Greta seems totally content. Just now, I put her to bed on my own because Ben was at a work event. It was probably the first time I've done the entire bedtime routine on my own and not nursed her. It was as close to effortless as a toddler's bedtime can be. She doesn't even seem to remember that we used to nurse at this time -- which is, of course, a relief and a rejection all at the same time.
So that's our update. Joys and sorrows.
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