Pregnant. Finally.

I’d like to say that I’m going on a holiday, but I’d be lying

by Veronica on January 11, 2012

in My body is broken., Pregnant. Finally.

Instead, I will be schlepping off to an examination room tomorrow afternoon, to have an ultrasound wand jabbed in my most intimate places, while a woman reminds me to please breathe and can you just twist this way while I search for the right ovary?

My right ovary has opinions, especially surrounding being photographed. It’s a shy ovary, preferring to hide somewhere underneath my other internal organs and occasionally sending stabbing pains my way, so that I know it’s still kicking around in there.

It also has opinions about things like ovulating and not producing tens of cysts at a time, but who I am to tell it not to be argumentative, when it’s me it’s attached to.

This is, of course, the first ultrasound for this pregnancy. Hopefully this is also the one in which they confirm that a) there is a real embryo b) that said embryo is where it ought to be and not holidaying with my right ovary and c) that a heartbeat exists, somewhere that isn’t actually my heart – my heart being well behaved, if a teensy bit leaky.

I’m not concerned about my heart stopping suddenly, but an embryo seems rather more … fragile somehow.

I was reminded to drink three large glasses of water at least 30 minutes beforehand and to wear loose clothing. I resisted the urge to laugh maniacally at the receptionist on the other end of the phone line, while shouting “Lady, my uterus is wonky, there is no way you’re seeing anything from the outside.” I didn’t think she would appreciate hearing my insane cackle that bubbles up when my body is expected to behave in a normal fashion.

Really, the whole point of the ultrasound seems moot. Either I will have another baby, or I will not. Poking me with a dildo wand that silently shakes my uterus merely seems like a modern form of torture that we’re taught we need, in order to KNOW.

Being a big fan of KNOWING things however, I’ve insisted upon this myself and I am just hoping that it all looks sunny, down there in Uterusville.

Something a little brighter than death and destruction, please. I’ve put my order in now.

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Sometimes, connections are spooky

by Veronica on January 6, 2012

in Pregnant. Finally.

In March, 1991, when I was two years old, my father was in a near fatal motorcycle accident. By sheer luck, an expensive helmet, a guardian angel and some pretty amazing medical care, he survived with just scars to show for it.

During his time in ICU, a drain was inserted in his side, just underneath his right armpit. Shortly afterwards, I developed a birth mark of an identical shape and size, in the identical position to Dad’s scars.

We’ve used this mark to show people before, how we’re linked. Connection within family is strong and sometimes, it’s stronger than others. I also have Dad’s identical birth marks on my stomach – my brother has the mirror image marks, which are identical to our grandfather.

When I was pregnant with Amy, every time I complained to my father about how sick I was, he was sick too. It was a rough pregnancy and I was glad to finally give birth and stop throwing up. I had joked during it that Dad had my morning sickness, but we didn’t think much of it.

Pregnant with Isaac, two years later, Dad was sick again.

I am now gestating what will hopefully be our third baby and yes, you guessed it, my father appears to be sick alongside me.

I can’t say that I’m surprised, really.

You can see the mark, just underneath my hand, holding my jumper up.

Side note: I was going to crop out all of the bits that are less than flattering on this photo, but you know, I didn’t. I am six weeks pregnant now, after a miscarriage at six weeks and my uterus appears to be overachieving, size wise.

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Exciting news

by Veronica on December 30, 2011

in Pregnant. Finally.

I appear to have fallen pregnant immediately after the miscarriage. Which is a) lovely and b) absolutely ridiculous.

I should never expect my body to do anything sensible and of course, getting pregnant twice in three months (after failing to fall pregnant for over two years) is EXACTLY the kind of shit my body pulls on a regular basis.

I am cautiously optimistic, feeling lots more like I’ve been hit by a bus than last time and the nausea feels more like morning sickness and less like an EDS reaction to progesterone. Which is me saying that eating dry toast and crackers eases it slightly, whereas EDS + progesterone nausea needs drugs to fix it. We’re getting some of that too.

Am I making sense, Internet?

By my reckoning, I’m about 5 weeks now, which is early still.

But there we go.

Pregnant.

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I went for an obstetric ultrasound and all I got was this lousy empty uterus

by Veronica on December 1, 2011

in Headfuck, My body is broken., Pregnant. Finally.

A week before the wedding, I got a positive pregnancy test, which was lovely and fantastic and completely unexpected. Seeing as how we weren’t planning on starting Clomid until January, a natural pregnancy was a bit of a shock.

But that’s okay – it was a good shock and I only told a very few people because I was spotting (my period started and stopped again, for those keeping track at home) and we weren’t sure what was happening.

Then of course we ended up in Hospital with Isaac; running around like idiots getting the wedding prep and I was quietly vomiting in the corners when I had the chance. So much fun.

We got married and while I spotted a little over the weekend, it wasn’t anything too major and I wasn’t bothered. Bleeding through an entire pregnancy with Isaac has raised my tolerance levels for spotting and such.

Monday, I made an appointment with my GP to get my pregnancy confirmed and an ultrasound scheduled.

Monday afternoon, I started to bleed relatively heavily – although not as heavy as a normal period, nor as painful.

By Tuesday, it had lightened up a little, to the point that I wasn’t certain that I’d lost the pregnancy.

Yesterday, I was still bleeding, but fed up with waiting for my appointment, I begged my GP to fax a referral off so that I could have an ultrasound ASAP to find out what was going on.

Nothing bothers me worse than not knowing. Limbo is a special kind of torture for me and that limbo of bleeding too much to feel safe in my pregnancy, but not enough to be certain of a miscarriage was hell.

This morning I got my ultrasound.

And nothing.

Empty uterus. No sign of pregnancy there at all.

Which is fucking ridiculous, considering I spent the morning throwing up, and got another positive urine test yesterday evening.

My body is fucked, you guys. It can’t do ANYTHING right.

I went back to my GP to have blood HCG done and he’s as baffled as I am.

Either I lost this pregnancy with minimal cramping and bleeding Monday night (unlikely?) or something weird is going on. Considering my body never falls on the easy side of statistics, my vote is for weird.

I know when we are likely to have conceived (within the limits of sperm life), because I’m anal and I chart everything, but something is amiss here.

Namely, the lack of fetus like material in my uterus. Or a uterus that looks pregnant at all.

Argh.

I’ll have my blood HCG levels back tomorrow lunchtime and if the levels are still pregnant (very likely) then I’ll have a second lot of bloods drawn on Monday to test and see if they’re going up or down.

But until then, I’m stuck in this limbo hell, bleeding and vomiting, feeling pregnant and bemoaning my stupid uterus.

And watching for signs of ectopic pregnancy, with increasing stress.

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