“With toys!”

We told Maddie about the baby growing in my tummy and that she’s going to be a big sister. Her reaction has been a little different from what I expected. She keeps talking about “when the baby comes out with toys!” and “when the baby is done growing and it comes out with balls!” At this point, I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a giant pinata. She’d better not come at me with a stick, that’s all I got to say.

Also, I’m finding that I’m having a hard time with the prospect of getting bigger. I’m a little bloated right now and I’m obsessed with how far out my belly is pooching. My new (SIZE! MEDIUM!) jammies are a little snug in the waist and it makes me so sad. After spending the last 14 months watching myself get smaller, I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that it’s ok for me to get bigger. This is the first time in my life that I’m allowed supposed to gain weight. My bariatric surgeon was telling me that gaining 25 -30 pounds was healthy during pregnancy and in my head I kept saying “Oh hell no! I’m going to gain as little as possible!” Then he started talking about how important it is for my OB to watch the baby’s growth for any signs of slowing due to malnutrition on my part. You’d think that would have scared the bejebus out of me and made me realize that I HAD to gain weight with this pregnancy so my baby would be healthy… and you’d be wrong. While I’m eating well and NOT dieting, I’m still fretting over the inevitable. How sad is that? Sad AND selfish.

My whores are moaning

You know, I really ought to preface this post with an apology to everyone reading who wants to be pregnant and isn’t, or to everyone who will never, ever be pregnant, or to people entirely without female reproductive organs, but I’m not going to. I’m pregnant and I’m going to write about it a lot here. If it upsets you in any way, it’s purely unintentional and I compassionately advise that you stop reading and maybe check back in a year or so. xxoo, Erica

I’m pretty pissed at my hormones right now. Here’s a detailed (and incomplete) list as to why:

1. I have a fucking fever blister. Nothing like a pregnant waitress with herpes bringing your dinner. YUM!
2. The nausea is awful. Have I mentioned that I work around food? Again, YUM!
3. My nipples have been on red alert for 10 days straight.
4. My boobs are heavy and sore and I hate them.
5. I’m pretty sure it was my hormones that tricked me into thinking getting pregnant again was a good idea. They even forced me to romanticize the experience! I pictured myself with an ethereal maternal glow, lovingly cradling my round little belly. WTF? I mean, really, Erica? Who’s dumb enough to fall for that? Me, that’s who.
6. Again with the nausea.

Thoughts from the uterus

I got the results of my second hCG test today. I’m wicked pregnant, yo. The OB scheduled me for a sonogram on 10/19 to check for the possibilty of twins to make sure all is progressing according to plan. (I refuse to be pregnant with twins. So there.)

I’m giving a lot of thought to the kind of birth experience I’d like this time around. My last one was, well, shall we say, less than awesome. This time I’d like to try for a VBAC without any medication. I figure if I can handle a c-section without an epidural, I can handle natural childbirth, right? I mean, it can’t possibly be THAT painful. I haven’t run this by my OB yet, but I plan to at my next visit. I have a feeling he’s not going to jump on board the VBAC train. Don’t get me wrong, he’s wonderful, but he’s kind of medication-happy. I have a feeling he’ll gently push for a repeat c-section. I’m going to hold my ground and stand firm, though. I’ll assure him that I’ll go for the c-section the minute it looks like there’s any trouble at all, but otherwise, I want as little medical intervention as possible.

I’ve also been ruminating on how different this pregnancy is so far. There is very little Crazy this time. No obsessive googling at all. No thinking and thinking about all the millions of things that could go wrong. I’m just sort of… pregnant. With a toddler to chase around and a household to manage, I don’t really have time to devote to mentally Being Pregnant every minute of the day.

However, there is a downside to being too busy to pay attention to being pregnant; the tiredness. I’m so! tired! all! the! time! I’ve taken a nap every day for the last week or so. I cannot imagine how bad it’s going to be when I’m the size of a hippo running after Maddie at the playground. Also, I’m very stabby. It’s like PMS cranked up to 11. I swear to god, Maddie doesn’t shut up EVER and I’m on the verge of screaming at her to GIVE IT A REST ALREADY, PLEASE! So far, I’ve managed to ask her to hush and give me some quiet time in a very nice tone. I don’t know how long that will last, though. I’m not optimistic.

Someday

It’s been over four years since my mother died and every now and then something will trigger a memory and all of the sudden, the pain bursts in and floods my heart and mind. For a while, I’m right back in that terrible moment when I had to turn over the urn to be interred and my mommy was gone from my care. Forever. The pain and sense of loss are overwhelming. I used to fight against it, but learned that it’s worse that way. Now, when it happens, I just let it. I remember, I cry, I feel.

Mostly I can remember the good times. Mostly I can talk about her without crying. Even talk about her dying and death without crying. But not always.

I’ve met a few other people who have just lost, or are in the process of losing, a parent and they always ask me if it ever stops hurting. I see their shining eyes and clenched jaws and I want to tell them that yes, it stops hurting. I want to give them hope that one day it will be all better. But I don’t. I tell them the truth; which is this:

No, it never stops hurting. There will always be a hole in your heart where your mom/dad used to be. Right now, that hole is raw and bleeding and the most painful thing you can imagine. That hole will always be there, but it won’t always be raw. It will heal and you’ll be all right. You’ll never be same as you were before their death, but you’ll be all right.

I’ll be all right.

Someday.

Operation: Second Kid is now officially Operation: Second Pregnancy

I’m knocked up, yo.

I’m going to the OB tomorrow for another blood draw to check progesterone and hCG levels. Then I’ll go back 48 hours later for a repeat to check and see if the hCG is rising as it’s supposed to.

We’ve told the family and close friends, and now I get to tell you! I find myself thinking of SDH and her husband and wondering if I’d be able to handle that situation with as much grace as she did. (The answer is categorically NO, fyi. She is a very strong and courageous woman, that Sarah.) I know that the little pink line doesn’t necessarily mean that I’ll be holding a new baby next spring and I’m trying to not get too ahead of myself, but who are we kidding? I’m ahead of myself 100% of the time, right?

I’m not the kind of woman who’ll keep the pregnancy to myself until after the first trimester for fear of having to tell people about a miscarriage. Just as I shared the journey of getting pregnant with you, so would I need your encouragement and support if I were to lose this baby. That’s what’s so wonderful about my “blogging tribe;” you’re there to celebrate and to console.

Attempt the Second

I had an appointment with my OB, Dr. G, today. I had an exam and blood drawn. Dr. G says that it looks like I ovulated this month, which is good considering all the pain in my nether regions right around ovulation time. The results of the blood test will show my progesterone level which will indicate whether or not I truly did ovulate.

Dr. G said based on my exam that he wouldn’t be surprised if I was pregnant. Pshaw, I say. I’m pretty sure I’m not. My face is broken out like I’m 13 again, my boobs are killing me and I hate EVERYONE. Seems like a pretty strong argument for PMS to me. But what do I know?

Teh Crazy was consuming me, so I turned over all of my pregnancy tests to Gerald. I’m just going to wait and see what happens in the next week instead of testing twice a day and scrutinizing the strip for any sign of a speck of pink in the result line. I may have even busted out a magnifying glass. Hey, I told you I was Crazy.

Huh? What’d I miss?

I debated about whether or not to tell you about The Clomid. Not because I’m embarrassed, or anything. Hell, I’m hardly the only woman who’s ovarially challenged, right? But because I was afraid you’d get the wrong idea. Since we all know I suck at keeping my own secrets, it wasn’t really a surprise to find myself blurting it out.

Lest you get the “wrong idea,” let me ‘splain: Gerald was 100% opposed to The Clomid re: O: SK. Last time around I was on Clomid, Estrogen and Progesterone. That’s a potent combination of hormones, my friends. I was a raving bitch one minute and sobbing uncontrollably the next. It’s a miracle we were ever able to, ahem, you know. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to “rise to the occasion” had I been the husband. In addition, Gerald’s never been fully convinced of the fact that I needed pharmaceutical help in order to conceive. When we were trying to get pregnant with Maddie, the OB I was going to was a little…shady off-putting and Gerald decided he didn’t know his ass from his elbow. Luckily for us, as soon as I conceived, he retired and I found the most wonderful OB, Dr. G.

Dr. G. did some blood work on me a few months ago and said things looked ok as far as ovulation was concerned that month. We were both hoping that my PCOS would reverse itself with my massive weight loss. Then, a couple months later, my period was 10 days early. (Remember, my cycle is only 24 days long to begin with. 10 days is almost half.) He did some more blood work and determined that I didn’t ovulate at all that month. He was concerned with the length of my cycle in addition to the lack of ovulation. He suggested a low dose of Clomid just to help things along. I reported all this to Gerald, but we again agreed to just let God be in charge.

We tried this month and not only did I not get pregnant, I started my period five days early and failed to ovulated yet again. At this point, I felt like we needed to make a final decision on O: SK. Did we want to get pregnant or not? Because if we did, then it wasn’t going to happen on it’s own very quickly, or maybe never. There was no way I could deal with Teh Crazy every month for who knows how long, or worry about Gerald deciding we were done trying since it was all one big FAIL. I didn’t want trying to conceive to be a drudgery or result in fights and hurt feelings. I was ready to throw in the towel if Gerald said no to the Clomid again.

After a lengthy (and totally calm) discussion, Gerald said that even though he was opposed to me taking any kind of fertility drugs, he knows how badly how I want another child and the easiest way for that to happen is to take Clomid. He still doesn’t like the idea, but is willing to compromise to make me happy. Yes, I’m aware that he’s a Keeper.

This time, I’m only taking Clomid for five days. Nothing else. After two doses, I feel great. No desire to stab someone in their fucking eyeball or cry over how my hair won’t lay right. At this point, my only worry is whether or not my husband will have recovered from his surgery enough to, well, you know, in two weeks.

Items of Note:

1. Gerald is having surgery tomorrow morning. He’s having RnY Gastric Bypass, to be specific. If you’d please send prayers/good vibes/happy thoughts, we’d both appreciate it.

2. I took my first dose of Clomid this morning.*

*Gerald would appreciate your prayers/good vibes/happy thoughts much more for this than for his surgery.

Oh, for the love of pete

So, there’s some spotting going on this evening. This could mean one of two things. Let’s review the facts, shall we?

1. My cycle is only 24 or 25 days long.
2. I ovulate on day 12. (If I ovulate at all, that is.)
3. Today is one week post-ovulation and five days pre-period.

Therefore, the spotting could be implantation bleeding or a really effing early period. If it’s the latter, that will be twice in the last two months that I’ve been ridiculously early. That makes conceiving without pharmaceutical help about as likely as, well, something REALLY unlikely. *sigh* We’ll see what tomorrow holds, I guess.

You: Hopefully a post about something other than O: SK.
Me: Fat chance, suckah!

**UPDATE: O: SK Month 1 = FAIL

I seem to have sprung a leak…

Teh Crazy that I was so valiantly holding on the inside has begun to leak out into my everyday life. I’m obsessively googling early pregnancy symptoms and implantation cramping and blah blah blah. I’ve looked at my calendar approximately 678956 times today counting how many days are left before I can take a pregnancy test.

I was so hoping that I wouldn’t be insane this time around. Who the hell was I kidding?