Sleepless Nights

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  • Bigger and Bigger

    9w3d since LMP

    So, it has been 9w3d since my last period started. Even though my ultrasound put my dates at 8w tomorrow, I find that I am going to disagree with what the ultrasound said.

    Amy measured small from day one (at one point she ws measuring 3 weeks behind), despite me knowing exactly when I fell pregnant with her. This time around I know exactly when I fell pregnant, regardless of whether an ultrasound measurement agrees with me. At the end of the day, we have a nice healthy heartbeat and that is all that counts.

    I seriously doubt that a pregnancy test that recommended you wait until 19 days after you last had sex to test, would show a positive result a mere 8 days (and if we are going to be picky, it was 7 days, 8 hours) after our last, well, you know.

    So, unless otherwise told, I am going to continue to count things by my dates. And by my dates, MY WORD is my belly getting large. Like, REALLY big [here is last week’s photo for comparison. I didn’t realise how huge I looked until I saw last weeks photo]

    Sure, most of that is probably water and intestines and stuff, but hell, I am as big here (I took this this afternoon) as I was at 20 weeks last time! AND the photo was taken when all I had been able to stomach was some apple sauce for the entire day. Oy.

    So yes, the little one continues to grow and I continue to feel sick and exhausted and incredibly happy to have finally gotten here.

  • Bedtime Woes

    Sometimes I just get so angry that I could happily beat things to death. Especially at bedtime.

    Amy is never the reason I am angry, I accept that some nights she has trouble falling asleep and needs me to go and cuddle/resettle/kiss her eleventy hundred times.

    No, I get angry at things that are preventing Amy from falling asleep.

    Like when she will have just settled, and then the dog will insist on dragging the cat around the house growling, while the cat yowls and then, when I finally have them separated, Seven will bark and Amy will get out of bed just to tell Seven to ‘Shhhhh Dog!’.

    Or, when she is just falling asleep and then a cat will jump into her bedroom, prompting cries of ‘Kitten! kitten! Here pleasey!’ from Amy, again with her needing to get out of bed.

    And then again, when she is finally settled and all the animals are outside so that I don’t kill them with my rolling pin, or god forbid, my bare hands, the kittens will hear her in her bedroom (she sings herself to sleep) and jump onto her window sill and meow.

    And then she will get out of bed, and then Seven will jump up against her gate whining and Amy will spend all her time trying to climb over her gate, so she can hug Seven and then I will finally get Seven AWAY FROM THE FUCKING KID and I will get Amy BACK into bed and settled and everything will be sweet until Seven decides that she needs to pee and scratches to go outside, right outside of Amy’s bedroom.

    So, I will put Seven out, and put Amy back to bed, then Seven will scratch to come in and bother Amy A-FUCKING-GAIN and I will curse the person who put 2 of the bedrooms right near the outside door.

    THEN, I will bring Seven inside and wonder why the fuck I bothered because she obviously didn’t need to go outside in the first fucking place BECAUSE SHE IS PEEING IN MY CLEAN FUCKING LAUNDRY A-FUCKING-GAIN.

    And then, Seven will settle and Amy will settle and I will stop visualising murder and death and a padded room….

    And then…

    Amy will have a bad run of diarrhoea needing me to change her nappy 4 times in 20 minutes.

    And I will repeat everything ALL OVER AGAIN.

    Hi, My name is Veronica and this is MY LIFE.

  • Something Ends, Something Begins

    Xbox4NappyRash was asking the other day why people who have issues with fertility or trying to conceive seem to ignore the fact once we get pregnant.

    “From what I see and read, there are also relatively few recounts from people who have been here [dealing with infertility] and emerged out the other side. I find it hard to grasp why they would almost pretend it never happened.

    They must remember the sadness, they must remember the frustration and they must remember the prayers they offered, or deals they were willing to strike with anyone, just to end their longing.”

    I am thrilled to be pregnant, I am also aware of people who are still reading my blog while trying to conceive. I find myself trying not to blog about the mundanities of pregnancy; especially early pregnancy with its fear of miscarriage, because I don’t want to feel like I am rubbing it in.

    For this same reason, I am less likely to comment on infertility blogs. Someone said that ‘her diagnosis of secondary infertility between her 2 children didn’t last long enough to mean anything’ and that is how I feel. I don’t feel like I have any right to have an opinion on TTC anymore.

    We did 4 months of low stress trying and then 12 months of concerted trying; complete with cycle counting, sex on cue and propped hips afterwards. Also added in for extra flavour, cycle depression, many ‘just relax and stop trying’ comments and the always welcome ‘well maybe you are just trying too hard, stop stressing about it’.

    I have been bitter and wept at pregnancy and birth announcements. I have lamented my bitterness when a pregnancy announcement that hurt me badly ended in miscarriage, twice. I have been happy for friends, but sad, so awfully sad for me and then horribly sad when their pregnancies ended in sadness too. [No link for my other friend, she doesn’t blog]

    I feel like I have walked over hot coals to get here, but compared to others, I had an easy run. Because of that, I don’t feel qualified to offer advice on infertility. It feels like I wasn’t there for long enough to be considered part of the group.

    I don’t talk about trying to conceive much anymore. It feels a little surreal, but more than that, I would hate for someone to come and visit my blog only to feel blindsided by my pregnancy. The last thing you need at the end of a failed cycle is to head over to someone who has been understanding and sympathetic, only to find them whinging about morning sickness, exhaustion and toddler tantrums.

    We do indeed remember the sadness and the frustrations. We remember our longing; the prayers and deals offered all too well. That’s why once you walk through the fire and end up on the other side, you are a bit hesitant to talk about it.

    I remember intensely the feeling of hollow emptiness at the beginning of every period. I remember how angry I was with other people simply for being pregnant when I wasn’t. I remember the heart breaking sadness of a failed cycle; of knowing that my daughter was going to be just that little bit older; knowing that the age difference was going to be that little bit bigger.

    Once you have walked over the hot coals that is TTC, you are much more aware of how tenuous this all is. Of how lucky you are to be in this situation and how close you came to not being here right now.

    It makes you infinitely more grateful for everything, but also so much more aware of everything that could go wrong. Because you wanted this so badly, it tears the carpet out from under your feet when you just need to whinge about it all. Someone is always ready to remind you about how badly you wanted this, and what right do you have to whine when *someone else* has never seen 2 pink lines, or heard the doctor say congratulations.

    I can’t claim infertility because in the end, I didn’t need treatment to fall pregnant with this little one.

    I can’t claim a surprise pregnancy either, because it took us so long to get here.

    I remember exactly what it felt like when I wasn’t here. I know that I will be a much more supportive friend to anyone needing fertility treatments, doctors visits or simply a shoulder. I know that this has made me a stronger person and it has made me that much more grateful for a strong heartbeat and morning sickness.

    And I am able to stand here and sing ‘Ner ner neernerner’ at the ‘just relaxers’ because I know we conceived on a train wreck of a cycle, when I was more stressed than I had ever been. I am living proof that relaxing doesn’t get you pregnant, it takes a sperm meeting an egg, in whatever way you can get that to happen.

  • Ultrasound!

    Ultrasound June 18 2008

    Funny isn’t it, how an ultrasound can change everything. We thought we were 8w6d today, however, on an ultrasound I am 7w3d. Now, the technician said that it was too large of a gap for her to have made an error, or for it to be something wrong with the little one.

    So, we conceived 10 days later in our cycle; which ties in with my counting of days anyway. I wasn’t sure if we were having a 28 day cycle or a 38 day one so we covered all our bases, hehe.

    Adjusted due date is the 1st February.

    The heartbeat is more than 160bpm and the technician said that she could see no reason whatsoever to worry about viability.

    So now that just begs the question, how the fuck did I get a positive pregnancy test, seeing as how I wasn’t using an early, sensitive test; and seeing as how I actually tested 9 days past ovulation; 5 days before my period was actually due.

    I can only attribute it to higher than normal HCG levels, but I haven’t had a Beta done, so who knows.

  • Pregnancy Tests

    I was 14. I was sitting in a toilet, at school waiting for a pee stick to show one line or two. I sat there, waiting, watching the second hand on my watch click. Tick. tick. tick.

    I waited the allotted 3 mintues, peering at the stick intently. Turning it on an angle, just to check.

    At the end of the 3 minutes, the pee stick was negative. I could breathe again. The next day, my period started.

    Now, at the time I was in a steady relationship and I was on the pill. We were however, busily involved in exploring the differences between girls and boys and because I have a latex allergy, well, you know how things go.

    While I was with him, I spent an awful lot of money on pregnancy tests. Luckily, my pill worked beautifully and I didn’t get pregnant. Not to him.

    I think the nerves I felt when I was waiting for that first pregnancy test to show a result, were the exact same nerves have felt waiting for every single pregnancy test to show a result.

    Counting the clock seconds, watching the stick and angling it, just in case I wasn’t looking at it properly. Perfecting my pee stick squint, years before I needed to have it perfected.

    I remember peeing on the stick that told me I was pregnant with Amy. I was 17 and it was Christmas eve. I held the stick in my hands, leaned up against the wall and slowly slid down, until I was sitting on the bathroom floor. I sat there with my future clutched in my hands, while Nathan waited in the loungeroom watching TV.

    I watched it turn darkly positive before even a minute had passed. I looked at it and then rushed to show Nathan. We hugged, kissed and then I promptly rang a friend.

    I might have been only 17, but we knew how we wanted our life to be and having children young tied in with our plans.

    After the positive test thrill with Amy, I went many months without the need for a pregnancy test. Until we started thinking that having the children close together would be a good idea.

    I got negative after negative after negative. All with that same feeling of nerves and fear/excitement in the pit of mt stomach.

    So, after we had been trying with concerted effort for months, I swore I wasn’t going to buy anymore pregnancy tests. I had one test that sat in the bathroom cupboard for months, unused. I just couldn’t handle the thought of seeing another negative again.

    So, it took a lot of courage for me to be able to take a pregnancy test this time. I took it and waited. My second line didn’t show up for a few minutes and when it did, it was faint. I spent the entire day, picking up the test and looking at it. I still do.

    It just feels so surreal, a positive result finally, after so many negatives.

    A good surreal, but surreal all the same.

    I have an appointment for an ultrasound on Wednesday afternoon, hopefully I will be back with half decent scan photos to share with you.