(mostly pregnancy related, and probably pretty boring, so be warned)
Thank you all so so much for the words of encouragement (especially from Suz - OMG she had time to read AND post? Maybe this is do-able after all!) I have started to take some action to quell the freak-out. I’ve got the contact info for one of the local Moms of Multiples groups - they have a meeting on Monday and I’m trying to get up the courage to go. I’m not usually shy, exactly, but I don’t like walking blindly into new situations with no idea of what to expect. It makes me nervous. So now I’m trying to bring myself to email them so I’ve made contact before the meeting. Does anyone know if Dads of Multiples are generally welcome at these things? Because I think he’d like to come.
Also, though they’re not on the blogroll over there --> yet, I’ve started reading a few moms of multiples blogs. So far, most of them are useful and encouraging and inspiring, which I think I really needed. If you know of any (or are one) please let me know so I can add them to the list. Please?
Other action-taking: I’m working on following Moxie’s advice and starting to line up plans and support. It turns out that I am much less interested in the details of a birth-plan than I ever thought I’d be (mostly because it feels like a bit of a waste of energy - it’s all well and good to say that I’d like the baby placed on my tummy or that I’d like J to be the one to cut the cord, but I’m pretty sure that none of that will really be an option. I mean, I guess it’s always possible, but it just seems so irrelevant in the grand scheme of things now.) However, I’ve been thinking that I might like to have an AFTER-birth plan (not for the afterbirth - ewww - but for after all of that). I don’t know if this is silly or practical or what, and I feel like I’m way ahead of myself with it. But I want to breastfeed, even if the babies are early and in the NICU, and I think that means I need to work on that in advance. For now, I think it means researching the LC options at the hospital where I’ll be, and elsewhere in the area.
I’ve also been deep into the list-making. My mom has offered to come down for a couple of days to help do stuff around the house, and then a couple of weeks later my in-laws will be here for much the same purpose. So we’re trying to think through the things that need to be done that they can help with. I think J and his brother and father will be working on condensing our various storage areas to make room for the things that need to be moved out of the, um, spare bedroom so it can become the, um, nursery. My mother, bless her little disorganized heart, also wants to help - so I’m trying to figure out what she can do (given that organizing and sorting and cleaning really aren’t her strongest attributes). I think maybe we’ll work on the craft room, which is also a storage room, so that when my FIL finds things that belong in there, I’ll have someplace to put them. So that’s a whole heck of a lot of organizing.
There’s more, but I think I’ll spare you all the details. Let’s just say that I’m channeling all of my anxiety into planning and organizing and hoping that will help a bit.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Insecurities rising
Every time we have a fight, or even a non-fight -- a pesky disagreement, a mutual out-of-sorts moment -- every time, I worry about how we’re going to do this. How are we going to make it through the ridiculous ordeal of twins? We tell people, and they ask if our families are nearby. No, actually, they’re not that close. Mine are about 3 hours away. His are across the country. We have friends who are excited and want to come play with the babies, but not necessarily the kind that are going to organize meal rotations or come over to do laundry. We have fantastic neighbors who will be happy to do some occasional grocery shopping, but other than all that we’re mostly on our own. And I’m scared. I’m scared that we can’t even take care of ourselves right now. We can’t get the house clean, or organized. We can’t figure out what to have for dinner. I can barely make it off the couch much of the time. And yes, some of that is due to the pregnancy itself - it’s changed my appetite and my energy levels, among many other things. But some of it is just us. Maybe we’re really not ready for this. Maybe we can’t do it. Maybe we shouldn’t have tried so hard to get here. I’m trying really hard not to go down the “meant to be” path, because I don’t actually believe that at all, but tonight in the midst of it all I just don’t know how we’re going to do it.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Masquerade
Sometimes I feel like a bit of a fraud.
When, upon telling someone of the pregnancy, I don't follow it with a cautious note or a worried frown.
When I rest my hand on my growing midsection (for comfort or to clarify that this is not just my fat getting the better of me).
When I make plans for the future that involve paint swatches, or furniture arrangements, or being on maternity leave.
The normalcy of the actions is so foreign to me I feel I must be masquerading - I don't really deserve to plan a nursery, or look at strollers, or joke about how my exhaustion now is just preparation for later sleep deprivation. (Actually, I find the last one annoying - fraud or no.)
Yesterday, someone who had just learned of the pregnancy asked if she could touch my belly - it's my first random belly touch. At least she asked (!) but I couldn't figure out how to say no, politely. I think as it becomes more frequent (see, there I am assuming it will become more frequent) I'll get better at asking people NOT to touch. But right now it's all just so foreign that I feel like I'm making it up, bit by bit, as I go along. Or reciting some script I've heard before, complete with a laugh track.
I had meant to write about telling, and I will, especially since I'm getting to the point where it's hard to avoid. Meanwhile, J has managed to tell only a few people at work. In some ways, I want him to tell more so he gets to experience the weird pseudo-normalcy (and brief thrill) of other people's excitement. But every time another person finds out, it's one more boundary that has fallen and one more mask I have to put on. No one wants to hear "Yes, I'm pregnant with twins. At least for now." or "Well, we expect them in July, assuming I can make it that far." So I bite my tounge, and try to act like I actually believe this is happening.
When, upon telling someone of the pregnancy, I don't follow it with a cautious note or a worried frown.
When I rest my hand on my growing midsection (for comfort or to clarify that this is not just my fat getting the better of me).
When I make plans for the future that involve paint swatches, or furniture arrangements, or being on maternity leave.
The normalcy of the actions is so foreign to me I feel I must be masquerading - I don't really deserve to plan a nursery, or look at strollers, or joke about how my exhaustion now is just preparation for later sleep deprivation. (Actually, I find the last one annoying - fraud or no.)
Yesterday, someone who had just learned of the pregnancy asked if she could touch my belly - it's my first random belly touch. At least she asked (!) but I couldn't figure out how to say no, politely. I think as it becomes more frequent (see, there I am assuming it will become more frequent) I'll get better at asking people NOT to touch. But right now it's all just so foreign that I feel like I'm making it up, bit by bit, as I go along. Or reciting some script I've heard before, complete with a laugh track.
I had meant to write about telling, and I will, especially since I'm getting to the point where it's hard to avoid. Meanwhile, J has managed to tell only a few people at work. In some ways, I want him to tell more so he gets to experience the weird pseudo-normalcy (and brief thrill) of other people's excitement. But every time another person finds out, it's one more boundary that has fallen and one more mask I have to put on. No one wants to hear "Yes, I'm pregnant with twins. At least for now." or "Well, we expect them in July, assuming I can make it that far." So I bite my tounge, and try to act like I actually believe this is happening.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
E. coli in my snatch
So, apparently I’m harboring a huge colony of e.coli in my snatch (or at least someplace in my urinary tract). They ran the urine culture three different times to be sure it wasn’t just contamination (because apparently if you don’t, um, clean yourself properly before peeing all over your hands in a cup, then the results can be flawed). But the nurse who gave me the most recent results chuckled at the notion that it was contamination, so even though my doctor is out of town, I’m being placed on good old fashioned antibiotics. They’ve reassured me that this is totally safe for the babies, so off I go to fill the prescription. In theory this will make me feel better, though since I had no symptoms I knew of, I don’t know if I’ll really feel the difference. I mean, sure, I had the whole frequent urination thing, but I kind of attributed that to, you know, the pregnancy.
In other news, we’ve been venturing out into the world of normal people, just a bit. We took our first trip to the baby superstore, where J actually had the energy and the focus to look at cribs and strollers and pack-n-plays and swings and the whole nine yards. I’ve been collecting ideas of what I might want for the abstract case of actually getting that far for a couple of years now, so it was nice to look at stuff with some semblance of actual purchasing possibility. Except that I was insanely jealous of all the normal people who had a much bigger selection of, well, everything, because they don’t need to fit two cribs into one room, or two kids into one stroller, or two carseats into one car. (I know some of that isn’t actually true, since there were a fair number of people clearly working on baby #2, perfectly spaced about 2 years behind the first.)
I also went to my first prenatal yoga class, which was full of the cutest pregnant women ever. We went around the room at the beginning with name, how far along, and one thing we’re looking forward to after the baby, and all of these 24-32 weeks and looking smaller than me women were a little nauseating. I know part of it is that I wasn’t remotely skinny to begin with, plus I’m short so I just look round all over, especially when I’m sitting crosslegged on the floor, but c’mon. It was still a nice class, though. Short, but both a little bit of a stretch and at the same time relaxing.
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I’m working on a longer and more thoughtful post about telling and who gets to know what and who thinks to ask. Basically, the number of people who just think this is super cool and peachy keen and are totally not clued in either to the possibility that it was a long road to get here or that it might be a long road from this point forward. It’s just really weird. But more on that later.
In other news, we’ve been venturing out into the world of normal people, just a bit. We took our first trip to the baby superstore, where J actually had the energy and the focus to look at cribs and strollers and pack-n-plays and swings and the whole nine yards. I’ve been collecting ideas of what I might want for the abstract case of actually getting that far for a couple of years now, so it was nice to look at stuff with some semblance of actual purchasing possibility. Except that I was insanely jealous of all the normal people who had a much bigger selection of, well, everything, because they don’t need to fit two cribs into one room, or two kids into one stroller, or two carseats into one car. (I know some of that isn’t actually true, since there were a fair number of people clearly working on baby #2, perfectly spaced about 2 years behind the first.)
I also went to my first prenatal yoga class, which was full of the cutest pregnant women ever. We went around the room at the beginning with name, how far along, and one thing we’re looking forward to after the baby, and all of these 24-32 weeks and looking smaller than me women were a little nauseating. I know part of it is that I wasn’t remotely skinny to begin with, plus I’m short so I just look round all over, especially when I’m sitting crosslegged on the floor, but c’mon. It was still a nice class, though. Short, but both a little bit of a stretch and at the same time relaxing.
----
I’m working on a longer and more thoughtful post about telling and who gets to know what and who thinks to ask. Basically, the number of people who just think this is super cool and peachy keen and are totally not clued in either to the possibility that it was a long road to get here or that it might be a long road from this point forward. It’s just really weird. But more on that later.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Show(ing) and Tell(ing)
For once in my life, I appear to be somewhat normal. At least in comparison to those worth comparing myself to.
Ambivalence about pregnancy? Check. Ambivalence over telling people? Check. Trying to figure out who to tell what? Check. Guilt over the twins? Check. Fear of how we’re going to do this? Double check.
I’ve also started showing. I’ve been, um, snug in the waist for several weeks now, and bought my first pair of stretchy-waist jeans a while ago, but with the right shirt, I didn’t look all that different from my former non-skinny self. Maybe even less-skinny than usual, but not definitively pregnant. But in the past week, I think I’ve ‘popped’ (or whatever people call it - though not into a cute little ‘bump’). I’m still not huge or anything (though the phlebotomoist who drew my blood the other day* said “13 weeks? You’re just 13 weeks? Are you sure?” and when I told her it was twins, she said “Oh, that explains why you’re so big.” Hmmm.
Here’s the thing: I’m glad to be showing. It makes it a bit more real -- believable -- tangible. It also makes it significantly more public. I told my boss a couple of weeks ago, because I thought that was necessary. I’ve let the news trickle out bit by bit at school and work. (Apparently not slowly enough, since when J met my work colleagues at an event last week, every one said something to the effect of “Nice to meet you - and congratulations!” which I think he found a bit disconcerting.) And my mom was a bit hurt since I had made her promise not to tell anyone, and just released her a few days ago. (My dad took the release much more as I’d hoped - he’s glad not to have to keep it a secret, but he’s not going out of his way to tell people. When it comes up, or seems like the right moment, I’m sure he’ll tell my sibs and my uncle and whomever else. And that’s fine. Plus, we had a rather bizarre conversation about how far along I am, and why they count based on LMP instead of conception, and so how far am I really. It was kinda cute.)
Point being, the secret is slowly trickling out into the world. Or, if I’m in a cab with my MIL (we’re in Vegas with the in-laws this weekend - which is its own kind of fun), it’s streaming out to strangers right and left. But whatever.
In other news, on Thursday night my right boob started leaking clear fluid. I know it’s normal, but damn was it weird.
* One of my perinatologists - I have two because we’re deciding between two clinics still - ordered the full panel of bloodwork for clotting disorders. His reasoning is that I’ve been on baby aspirin and things have been fine, and it would be better to find out if that’s because it’s helping something clotting-related BEFORE I go off it. It’s a good rationale, and in theory the tests will be covered now in a way they would not have been had the RE ordered them before. So I guess that’s good. I have a long post pending on how to pick a doctor and a clinic (a strange revisitation of my debate about fertility clinics, in some ways) but that will have to wait for another day, as I have a room service breakfast to order to use the last of the hotel credit I earned by pouting about how long it was taking the front desk to fix a basic problem. I hate to whine, but, well, I guess not when it gets me free room service, right?
Ambivalence about pregnancy? Check. Ambivalence over telling people? Check. Trying to figure out who to tell what? Check. Guilt over the twins? Check. Fear of how we’re going to do this? Double check.
I’ve also started showing. I’ve been, um, snug in the waist for several weeks now, and bought my first pair of stretchy-waist jeans a while ago, but with the right shirt, I didn’t look all that different from my former non-skinny self. Maybe even less-skinny than usual, but not definitively pregnant. But in the past week, I think I’ve ‘popped’ (or whatever people call it - though not into a cute little ‘bump’). I’m still not huge or anything (though the phlebotomoist who drew my blood the other day* said “13 weeks? You’re just 13 weeks? Are you sure?” and when I told her it was twins, she said “Oh, that explains why you’re so big.” Hmmm.
Here’s the thing: I’m glad to be showing. It makes it a bit more real -- believable -- tangible. It also makes it significantly more public. I told my boss a couple of weeks ago, because I thought that was necessary. I’ve let the news trickle out bit by bit at school and work. (Apparently not slowly enough, since when J met my work colleagues at an event last week, every one said something to the effect of “Nice to meet you - and congratulations!” which I think he found a bit disconcerting.) And my mom was a bit hurt since I had made her promise not to tell anyone, and just released her a few days ago. (My dad took the release much more as I’d hoped - he’s glad not to have to keep it a secret, but he’s not going out of his way to tell people. When it comes up, or seems like the right moment, I’m sure he’ll tell my sibs and my uncle and whomever else. And that’s fine. Plus, we had a rather bizarre conversation about how far along I am, and why they count based on LMP instead of conception, and so how far am I really. It was kinda cute.)
Point being, the secret is slowly trickling out into the world. Or, if I’m in a cab with my MIL (we’re in Vegas with the in-laws this weekend - which is its own kind of fun), it’s streaming out to strangers right and left. But whatever.
In other news, on Thursday night my right boob started leaking clear fluid. I know it’s normal, but damn was it weird.
* One of my perinatologists - I have two because we’re deciding between two clinics still - ordered the full panel of bloodwork for clotting disorders. His reasoning is that I’ve been on baby aspirin and things have been fine, and it would be better to find out if that’s because it’s helping something clotting-related BEFORE I go off it. It’s a good rationale, and in theory the tests will be covered now in a way they would not have been had the RE ordered them before. So I guess that’s good. I have a long post pending on how to pick a doctor and a clinic (a strange revisitation of my debate about fertility clinics, in some ways) but that will have to wait for another day, as I have a room service breakfast to order to use the last of the hotel credit I earned by pouting about how long it was taking the front desk to fix a basic problem. I hate to whine, but, well, I guess not when it gets me free room service, right?
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Friends in need
My dear friend Mudbug, Mr. Mudbug and the darling Baby Bug need our support, prayers and good wishes right now. After an extended stay on bedrest and a somewhat complicated delivery, things finally seemed to be looking up for the Mudbug family, but today Baby Bug was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect for which he will be undergoing surgery tomorrow (Friday). The good news is that he is under the care of a skilled surgeon at an excellent, well regarded hospital. Plus, we all know he inherited his mom’s strength and tenacity, which can only help him pull through this.
Prayers, healing wishes, finger crossing, chicken bone shaking - whatever you do at a time like this is needed right now.
Prayers, healing wishes, finger crossing, chicken bone shaking - whatever you do at a time like this is needed right now.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Advice
Sunday’s Dear Abby featured a question from a woman who had told an infertile friend to “just relax” and couldn’t understand why the friend was so upset when she was just trying to help. Abby, thank goodness, had the sense to explain the problem. Not as bluntly as I might have, of course, but with a decent dose of “How exactly do you think that helped your friend?” (Akeeyu has a much more detailed - and of course better - take on it here.)
This somewhat makes up for the “Tell Me About It/Carolyn Hax” column a couple of days ago where the happily-married mother of two (call her Friend A) vented about her bad day to a friend with a rocky marriage who has been trying to have kids (Friend B) and who then complained about being vented to. Carolyn agreed that it wasn’t reasonable for Friend B to have been so upset about the minor venting. What I wanted to know (and I sent a note to Carolyn on this point) was - what exactly did Friend A say in her venting? Because if she said “My kids are driving me nuts, you should be glad you don’t have any” or “You want kids? Take mine” then I think Friend B was entirely justified in being pissed off. Hell, I’m pissed on her behalf, and I don’t even know what happened. And even if that’s not what happened - does Friend A generally listen to and support Friend B or does she regularly complain about her fairly-decent life without offering any support to a friend in need? It’s just not as simple as it was portrayed is all I’m saying.
And then I thought I’d better go back to reading the comics instead, because clearly the advice columns were far too stressful.
This somewhat makes up for the “Tell Me About It/Carolyn Hax” column a couple of days ago where the happily-married mother of two (call her Friend A) vented about her bad day to a friend with a rocky marriage who has been trying to have kids (Friend B) and who then complained about being vented to. Carolyn agreed that it wasn’t reasonable for Friend B to have been so upset about the minor venting. What I wanted to know (and I sent a note to Carolyn on this point) was - what exactly did Friend A say in her venting? Because if she said “My kids are driving me nuts, you should be glad you don’t have any” or “You want kids? Take mine” then I think Friend B was entirely justified in being pissed off. Hell, I’m pissed on her behalf, and I don’t even know what happened. And even if that’s not what happened - does Friend A generally listen to and support Friend B or does she regularly complain about her fairly-decent life without offering any support to a friend in need? It’s just not as simple as it was portrayed is all I’m saying.
And then I thought I’d better go back to reading the comics instead, because clearly the advice columns were far too stressful.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Wavin’ babe
I don’t know if I should post warnings on every pregnancy-related post or what, so until I figure it out I’ll err on the side of caution and warn you that I’ll be talking about pregnancy and ultrasounds today. Feel free not to read if you don’t feel like it. Of course, that’s your right all the time. So, um, do what you need to do.
The perinatologist used the fancy ultrasound machine today. Setting aside the sheer wonder of an ultrasound during which I was fully clothed, the pleasure of the warmed goo, and the fact that this was the world’s fanciest machine, I’m left with the best part of all. One of the baby-blobs waved at us. Waved. And did a little squirmy thing.
Coolest. Thing. Ever.
The perinatologist used the fancy ultrasound machine today. Setting aside the sheer wonder of an ultrasound during which I was fully clothed, the pleasure of the warmed goo, and the fact that this was the world’s fanciest machine, I’m left with the best part of all. One of the baby-blobs waved at us. Waved. And did a little squirmy thing.
Coolest. Thing. Ever.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Hi! Welcome to Pregnancy
I told a colleague I was pregnant today, to explain why I’ve been, well, how I’ve been - a little bit fuzzy and incredibly tired. Lo and behold, she’s pregnant, too, and about as far along as I am (though she doesn’t know for sure). It was nice to share a little bit, but mostly I felt like our experiences were so incredibly different that we were talking about different things. They were trying for a month (granted, they didn’t expect to conceive that fast - they knew it might take some time and figured they’d get started now). She doesn’t know her due date yet. She hasn’t yet seen an OB/midwife (her first appointment is in a a week or two, which if she’s due when she thinks she is will put it at late in her 11th week, if not into her 12th). She’s not sure if she’ll get an ultrasound at that appointment (though she wants one just to be sure everything is as it should be). She doesn’t intimately know what a transvag ultrasound is, let alone that it can be used to see the heartbeat before it can be heard on the doppler. She’s already told a couple of people, including some friends, and her boss. Her husband told his boss, too. It’s all just so weird to me. See what I mean about normal pregnant women? It’s a completely different world for them.
On the positive side, I didn’t greet this news with quite the same pang of intense jealousy as I would have in the past. It helped a bit to be the knowledgable one, slightly further along (at least in my head) and more experienced. It wasn’t easy, exactly, but it didn’t sting as much as it would have before. It was one of those moments where I really thought I was pregnant.
I took that feeling and ran with it, all the way to the maternity clothing store. I have that one pair of jeans, but I only had a couple of shirts that sorta kinda covered the waistband, and I thought maybe it was time. The store was even more surreal. There were three women working there, and two looked like they were in high school. Not that high school women don’t get pregnant sometimes, but these women clearly didn’t have any firsthand knowledge. It was just weird. Also weird was the couple that came in looking for a gift or something? I mean, it wasn’t for her, and it wasn’t for him, so I guess it was for someone else. Hopefully someone actually pregnant, since this woman was like 12 (okay, probably 19) and a size 2. And she kept exclaiming over how cute the clothes were. Geez, either go get pregnant so you can buy them, or go away, please. The last nutty thing was that everytime anyone walked into the store, the staff would greet them with, “Hi! Welcome to Motherhood.” I’m not ready to be welcomed to motherhood just yet. I’m still getting settled in pregnancy.
P.S. to Kell - I can’t find your email address anywhere, but if you email me I’d be happy to share what I know about SoCal clinics. My email address is on the ‘about’ page.
On the positive side, I didn’t greet this news with quite the same pang of intense jealousy as I would have in the past. It helped a bit to be the knowledgable one, slightly further along (at least in my head) and more experienced. It wasn’t easy, exactly, but it didn’t sting as much as it would have before. It was one of those moments where I really thought I was pregnant.
I took that feeling and ran with it, all the way to the maternity clothing store. I have that one pair of jeans, but I only had a couple of shirts that sorta kinda covered the waistband, and I thought maybe it was time. The store was even more surreal. There were three women working there, and two looked like they were in high school. Not that high school women don’t get pregnant sometimes, but these women clearly didn’t have any firsthand knowledge. It was just weird. Also weird was the couple that came in looking for a gift or something? I mean, it wasn’t for her, and it wasn’t for him, so I guess it was for someone else. Hopefully someone actually pregnant, since this woman was like 12 (okay, probably 19) and a size 2. And she kept exclaiming over how cute the clothes were. Geez, either go get pregnant so you can buy them, or go away, please. The last nutty thing was that everytime anyone walked into the store, the staff would greet them with, “Hi! Welcome to Motherhood.” I’m not ready to be welcomed to motherhood just yet. I’m still getting settled in pregnancy.
P.S. to Kell - I can’t find your email address anywhere, but if you email me I’d be happy to share what I know about SoCal clinics. My email address is on the ‘about’ page.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Graduations and new beginnings
Sorry I’ve been so silent. This is not pregnant blogger syndrome, just me dealing with some major, non-medical life stuff. Details at the end. But anyway, here’s a really long post to make up for it!
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I had my final ultrasound at the RE’s office last Friday - the twinkles actually had head-ish and body-ish blobs, which was really cool. After the scan, the nurses all gathered around with a “graduation certificate” and congratulated us. It was sweet, I guess. The three nurses who were most a part of my cycle were all there, which is rare (they seem not to overlap so much - one of them did most of my pre-cycle stuff, one was my primary nurse for retrieval and transfer, and one did most of my follow-up stuff) and it was really nice to see them all. The clinic has recently added a bunch of new nurses to handle the increasing patient load, so there were all of these new people, some of whom came and gave us hugs. I was very polite, but inside I was thinking, “Hi. Who are you and why are you hugging me?” And then, as a weird coincidence, one of my old REs (from two clinics ago) was there - she’s actually in a fellowship program, and that old office and this one are professionally affiliated, so I guess she’s doing a rotation at my clinic. It’s funny, because the day of my last visit at the Evil HMO clinic, the RE I saw before that (who supervised this RE fellow) was just starting there. I guess it’s a small world of REs around here. Weird.
So, Friday’s graduation was followed by our first appointment at the regular OB’s office on Monday. My primary OB (who was recommended by my RE, but whom I’ve never actually met) is actually a perinatologist (apparently, he has a “special interest” in twin pregnancies after IVF) but the initial appointment was with a nurse-midwife. I had a bunch of thoughts while I was there, but of course I was too busy filling out forms to jot them down, so we’ll see what I can reconstruct.
1. It was really weird to be around normal pregnant women (not that I know any of their histories, or anything, but they all looked so normal). Even now, I don’t really feel like I fit in somehow. Like I was an interloper. I’ve been in this office before, because Dr. Two-clinics-ago and the others (the ones who keep popping up other places) are based out of this office, but then I really knew the distinction - they’re all pregnant, and I’m not. (Yes, I know there are some women there just for routine well woman care. But really, mostly it’s cute pregnant bellies all over the place.) But even 9 weeks into this, I still felt like an outsider. Plus, so many of these women were adorably pregnant, and I just doubt that I will ever have that cute perky pregnant glow. J reassured me that of course I would, and I told him it would probably only last for a day or two, so he’d better take a picture.
2. I hate paperwork. There was so much of it that our appointment got cut short, and we’ll have to finish going over the second part of the form next time. Thankfully, next time is in 2 weeks, when we’ll also have an appointment with the peri. (I figure it’s about time we actually meet him!) And of course, I’ll be there again tomorrow so they can look at the TB test spot and give me a clean bill of health, because otherwise I won’t be allowed to deliver. Really, that’s what the NM said. Funny, huh.
3. I like midwives. She took time to listen. She laughed at our jokes. She answered questions. Instead of rushing things, she acknowledged that we wouldn’t get through everything, and made a follow-up appointment. All good. I’m sad, again, that I’ve risked out of using midwives for my primary prenatal care, but glad that I might see them for some of it anyway.
4. Apparently, despite the reading I’ve done which suggested vaginal delivery rates as high as a possible 50% of twin pregnancies (because 50% suddenly seems really high), I should pretty much resign myself to a c-section. There’s only one doctor (not mine) who can comfortably turn a breech baby, so if he’s on duty I can try and otherwise I can’t. Or something. I guess this gives me time to come to terms with the concept, but I had been holding out some hope that it wasn’t a done deal just yet, even though I knew it was more probable than not. And I really didn’t expect to hear it from the midwife, of all people. In a previous life, midwives would have been my first choice for care providers, and I think I’m mourning that loss just a bit too.
5. I am no longer on progesterone supplementation. Yay! My cooter is enjoying being left alone and not filled with gunk. (Hmm, that sounded nastier than necessary. Oh well, it was pretty nasty stuff.) Apparently, this means my body is producing it’s own progesterone, which seems like a very good thing.
6. We have to decide if we’re doing the Ultrascreen (blood test + NT ultrasound). I haven’t found a whole lot of information one way or another, and even though the CNM said it was fine for twins, I worry that there will be some sort of false positive reading because of the higher levels of HCG, or something. I don’t know why, though.
---
I bought a pair of jeans from the maternity section today. It was weird, and I’m not entirely ready to show publicly, but I’ve been wearing variations of the same outfit for a couple of weeks now and thought it was about time. So now I own one pair of really comfy jeans that actually fit. They still need to be hemmed, but for now I’ve just turned them to the right length and taped them up. Damn it feels good to wear jeans again.
---
In other news - and to explain why I’ve been a bad bad blogger - yesterday was a big deal exam based on those papers I’ve been writing forever... and I passed. It’s a graduation of another sort. Not that this actually means I’m done with my program, or anything, but it’s a big step forward. And a big relief, since after this there’s a bit more timing flexibility. Not that I want to be one of those people that’s ABD forever, but it’s a lot easier to take a leave of absence at this point. Which is good, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to need one.
---
I had my final ultrasound at the RE’s office last Friday - the twinkles actually had head-ish and body-ish blobs, which was really cool. After the scan, the nurses all gathered around with a “graduation certificate” and congratulated us. It was sweet, I guess. The three nurses who were most a part of my cycle were all there, which is rare (they seem not to overlap so much - one of them did most of my pre-cycle stuff, one was my primary nurse for retrieval and transfer, and one did most of my follow-up stuff) and it was really nice to see them all. The clinic has recently added a bunch of new nurses to handle the increasing patient load, so there were all of these new people, some of whom came and gave us hugs. I was very polite, but inside I was thinking, “Hi. Who are you and why are you hugging me?” And then, as a weird coincidence, one of my old REs (from two clinics ago) was there - she’s actually in a fellowship program, and that old office and this one are professionally affiliated, so I guess she’s doing a rotation at my clinic. It’s funny, because the day of my last visit at the Evil HMO clinic, the RE I saw before that (who supervised this RE fellow) was just starting there. I guess it’s a small world of REs around here. Weird.
So, Friday’s graduation was followed by our first appointment at the regular OB’s office on Monday. My primary OB (who was recommended by my RE, but whom I’ve never actually met) is actually a perinatologist (apparently, he has a “special interest” in twin pregnancies after IVF) but the initial appointment was with a nurse-midwife. I had a bunch of thoughts while I was there, but of course I was too busy filling out forms to jot them down, so we’ll see what I can reconstruct.
1. It was really weird to be around normal pregnant women (not that I know any of their histories, or anything, but they all looked so normal). Even now, I don’t really feel like I fit in somehow. Like I was an interloper. I’ve been in this office before, because Dr. Two-clinics-ago and the others (the ones who keep popping up other places) are based out of this office, but then I really knew the distinction - they’re all pregnant, and I’m not. (Yes, I know there are some women there just for routine well woman care. But really, mostly it’s cute pregnant bellies all over the place.) But even 9 weeks into this, I still felt like an outsider. Plus, so many of these women were adorably pregnant, and I just doubt that I will ever have that cute perky pregnant glow. J reassured me that of course I would, and I told him it would probably only last for a day or two, so he’d better take a picture.
2. I hate paperwork. There was so much of it that our appointment got cut short, and we’ll have to finish going over the second part of the form next time. Thankfully, next time is in 2 weeks, when we’ll also have an appointment with the peri. (I figure it’s about time we actually meet him!) And of course, I’ll be there again tomorrow so they can look at the TB test spot and give me a clean bill of health, because otherwise I won’t be allowed to deliver. Really, that’s what the NM said. Funny, huh.
3. I like midwives. She took time to listen. She laughed at our jokes. She answered questions. Instead of rushing things, she acknowledged that we wouldn’t get through everything, and made a follow-up appointment. All good. I’m sad, again, that I’ve risked out of using midwives for my primary prenatal care, but glad that I might see them for some of it anyway.
4. Apparently, despite the reading I’ve done which suggested vaginal delivery rates as high as a possible 50% of twin pregnancies (because 50% suddenly seems really high), I should pretty much resign myself to a c-section. There’s only one doctor (not mine) who can comfortably turn a breech baby, so if he’s on duty I can try and otherwise I can’t. Or something. I guess this gives me time to come to terms with the concept, but I had been holding out some hope that it wasn’t a done deal just yet, even though I knew it was more probable than not. And I really didn’t expect to hear it from the midwife, of all people. In a previous life, midwives would have been my first choice for care providers, and I think I’m mourning that loss just a bit too.
5. I am no longer on progesterone supplementation. Yay! My cooter is enjoying being left alone and not filled with gunk. (Hmm, that sounded nastier than necessary. Oh well, it was pretty nasty stuff.) Apparently, this means my body is producing it’s own progesterone, which seems like a very good thing.
6. We have to decide if we’re doing the Ultrascreen (blood test + NT ultrasound). I haven’t found a whole lot of information one way or another, and even though the CNM said it was fine for twins, I worry that there will be some sort of false positive reading because of the higher levels of HCG, or something. I don’t know why, though.
---
I bought a pair of jeans from the maternity section today. It was weird, and I’m not entirely ready to show publicly, but I’ve been wearing variations of the same outfit for a couple of weeks now and thought it was about time. So now I own one pair of really comfy jeans that actually fit. They still need to be hemmed, but for now I’ve just turned them to the right length and taped them up. Damn it feels good to wear jeans again.
---
In other news - and to explain why I’ve been a bad bad blogger - yesterday was a big deal exam based on those papers I’ve been writing forever... and I passed. It’s a graduation of another sort. Not that this actually means I’m done with my program, or anything, but it’s a big step forward. And a big relief, since after this there’s a bit more timing flexibility. Not that I want to be one of those people that’s ABD forever, but it’s a lot easier to take a leave of absence at this point. Which is good, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to need one.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Quick updates
Just popping in to join the chorus of congratulations on the arrival of Muddy’s gorgeous baby boy. He was born January 2, by c-section, at 36 weeks (after more than 3 months of bedrest) and is reportedly the cutest and biggest baby in the NICU (where he’s on a vent for some breathing difficulties). Muddy is dealing with some painful c-section aftermath, but is doing well. Updates to come as they’re available. And in the meantime, YAY!
---
The DC Infertiles Meetup was fab, as everyone else has already said. I don’t have much more to add, really, except to note how much I love being with a group of people that just get it - even if we didn’t all have all the intimate details about each others’ cooters, we still all understood the general picture. When else can I leave a bathroom stall (in the Capitol building, no less) and have bunches of people who will listen to me vent about progesterone suppositories (which are better than they were before, but still gross) - and join in! So, that’s that part.
The rest of the DC trip (with one notable, charming, lemon-drop-sharing exception) was fairly unexceptional, though not in a bad way. I actually like my in-laws most of the time, but I’m allergic to their house, and off my allergy meds, so my breathing suffered a bit. But telling them about the twinkles (we showed them the u/s picture) was pretty fun. And helped buffer my MIL’s stream of well-intentioned assvice. Plus, they’ve decontaminated another room in the house, so I got to hang out and be social while still mostly breathing. So yeah, I’d say that was pretty good all around. Plus, my BIL was quietly supportive and kind and helpful, which was especially sweet.
---
Food is generally not appetizing, and that is incredibly frustrating right now. Even if I’m not obsessing over Barbara Luke’s advice, it’s still problematic to be simultaneously hungry and repelled by food. And I’ve been to several grocery stores over the past couple of days in seach of food that appeals. I may have to start sampling the fast food options soon. I had McDonald’s chicken nuggets while we were in DC, and they were actually pretty satisfying. But that was then, so we’ll see.
---
I finished the crazy papers, but am now busily trying to wrap up a research prospectus, in which I propose a plan of action for the next couple of years. This is an exercise in fiction, since it’s too soon to announce any news, so I have to write the thing as if what I’ll be doing for the next 18 months or so is working on a dissertation. Ha! (The general idea at this point, of course, is that I’ll be, um, otherwise occupied. At least, that’s the plan.)
---
The DC Infertiles Meetup was fab, as everyone else has already said. I don’t have much more to add, really, except to note how much I love being with a group of people that just get it - even if we didn’t all have all the intimate details about each others’ cooters, we still all understood the general picture. When else can I leave a bathroom stall (in the Capitol building, no less) and have bunches of people who will listen to me vent about progesterone suppositories (which are better than they were before, but still gross) - and join in! So, that’s that part.
The rest of the DC trip (with one notable, charming, lemon-drop-sharing exception) was fairly unexceptional, though not in a bad way. I actually like my in-laws most of the time, but I’m allergic to their house, and off my allergy meds, so my breathing suffered a bit. But telling them about the twinkles (we showed them the u/s picture) was pretty fun. And helped buffer my MIL’s stream of well-intentioned assvice. Plus, they’ve decontaminated another room in the house, so I got to hang out and be social while still mostly breathing. So yeah, I’d say that was pretty good all around. Plus, my BIL was quietly supportive and kind and helpful, which was especially sweet.
---
Food is generally not appetizing, and that is incredibly frustrating right now. Even if I’m not obsessing over Barbara Luke’s advice, it’s still problematic to be simultaneously hungry and repelled by food. And I’ve been to several grocery stores over the past couple of days in seach of food that appeals. I may have to start sampling the fast food options soon. I had McDonald’s chicken nuggets while we were in DC, and they were actually pretty satisfying. But that was then, so we’ll see.
---
I finished the crazy papers, but am now busily trying to wrap up a research prospectus, in which I propose a plan of action for the next couple of years. This is an exercise in fiction, since it’s too soon to announce any news, so I have to write the thing as if what I’ll be doing for the next 18 months or so is working on a dissertation. Ha! (The general idea at this point, of course, is that I’ll be, um, otherwise occupied. At least, that’s the plan.)
Friday, December 23, 2005
Twinkle Twinkle
So this week’s freak out was caused partially by being so close to deadline on these papers (I’m working through the final edits right now) and mostly by the fact that at Monday’s u/s we saw two sacs. Yes, I’ve been holding out on you. The news freaked us out more than it should have, and talking about it would have made it more concrete than I think we could comprehend at that point. I mean, it’s not like we didn’t know that was a possibility, and we transferred two excellent blasts, and did acupuncture, and everything else we were supposed to do, but I don’t think we really imagined that this is how it would end up. So we spent a couple of days adjusting, and freaking out, and researching, and eating lime popcicles (okay, that was just me), and slowly got used to the idea just enough to contemplate that it might really happen.
And then came today’s ultrasound, where we got to see two twinkly little heartbeats.
Ohmygodwhathavewegottenourselvesinto! I know that we are so incredbily blessed by this possibility and I don’t want to come across as an ingrate. But I also know that this complicates things now and in the future. That it raises some risks. That it increases the chances of having a complicated pregnancy, of gestational diabetes, of preeclampsia, of a premature delivery. I am not anticipating the worst, but I’m not trying to sugar coat the risks. I have watched too many people struggle with even singleton pregnancies - I know it’s not all just ginger ale and flowers from this point forward in any pregnancy, but especially so with twins. And a bit of me is in mourning - I’m not one of those people who looked forward to twins because then we’d be done with all of this. I definitely want more than one kid, but I always imagined them coming one at a time. We havean embarassment of riches 11 frozen blasts, and I was looking forward to using some of them. And yes, I know we still might (I just can’t think that far ahead right now). And I know that just because there are two now doesn’t mean I’ll end up with two in the end. But for all of these reasons, it’s complicated and I needed some time to process.
I have to say, I do so love the internets. First, for worrying about me and making sure I was okay when I didn’t post as expected. I feel so blessed to think that there are people out there thinking about me. And I love that there are other bloggers who have gone before me - that I can read through Persephone’s post at a similar point and be reassured that my internal conflict seems competely normal - at least based on my admittedly limited sample size. (In fact, Persephone said almost EXACTLY what I would have said if I could focus just a bit more. So go read it, and mostly that’s what I’m thinking.)
So, yes. We are still adjusting. My mom was in town this morning so we brought her back to the exam room to see the twinkles. Otherwise, we haven’t told anyone. I think we’ll tell J’s parents on Sunday after we get to DC. (And my dad too, at some point. I think he was hoping for twins, actually.) And then we wait.
I know it’s still early and things could change. But for now, my twinkles are doing fine. And that is a fabulous gift.
And then came today’s ultrasound, where we got to see two twinkly little heartbeats.
Ohmygodwhathavewegottenourselvesinto! I know that we are so incredbily blessed by this possibility and I don’t want to come across as an ingrate. But I also know that this complicates things now and in the future. That it raises some risks. That it increases the chances of having a complicated pregnancy, of gestational diabetes, of preeclampsia, of a premature delivery. I am not anticipating the worst, but I’m not trying to sugar coat the risks. I have watched too many people struggle with even singleton pregnancies - I know it’s not all just ginger ale and flowers from this point forward in any pregnancy, but especially so with twins. And a bit of me is in mourning - I’m not one of those people who looked forward to twins because then we’d be done with all of this. I definitely want more than one kid, but I always imagined them coming one at a time. We have
I have to say, I do so love the internets. First, for worrying about me and making sure I was okay when I didn’t post as expected. I feel so blessed to think that there are people out there thinking about me. And I love that there are other bloggers who have gone before me - that I can read through Persephone’s post at a similar point and be reassured that my internal conflict seems competely normal - at least based on my admittedly limited sample size. (In fact, Persephone said almost EXACTLY what I would have said if I could focus just a bit more. So go read it, and mostly that’s what I’m thinking.)
So, yes. We are still adjusting. My mom was in town this morning so we brought her back to the exam room to see the twinkles. Otherwise, we haven’t told anyone. I think we’ll tell J’s parents on Sunday after we get to DC. (And my dad too, at some point. I think he was hoping for twins, actually.) And then we wait.
I know it’s still early and things could change. But for now, my twinkles are doing fine. And that is a fabulous gift.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
NBHH
For those of you who were wondering, I’m fine. (And thank you so much for caring. Really, I feel so lucky to have such fantastic friends in the computer. MWAH!) There’s no crisis. Just a bit of a freak out paired with my desperate attempts to finish these papers this week. I swear I will provide a report just as soon as I can - hopefully tomorrow if I can polish up the conclusion to the second paper tonight. But rest assured, NBHH.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Saying the words
Thank you all for your birthday wishes - it turned out to be a pretty good one. We went to LA to take my Grandmother to a cousin’s Bat Mitzvah, then spent a couple of hours hanging out at my mom’s house (even though mom was out of town) to rest and watch the Gilmore Girls episode where Rory has two birthday parties, and then we had dinner with my Dad and his girlfriend at this fantastic all-you-can-eat Mongolian BBQ, where you go through and get raw meat and veggies and all sorts of sauces, and then they cook it up for you on the big grill. Yummy! (And good for me, since I’ve been SO hungry lately. Seriously. I need to eat all the time. Except when I’m napping.)
So even though we saw family last weekend, we didn’t tell anyone any news. It was so new and fresh. If they didn’t know about the cycle, or the specifics of the timing, I think we could have waited another couple of weeks (at least until our first ultrasound, if not until we saw a heartbeat). But they knew, to varying degrees, the cycle timing, and so we figured it was about time to share. Which we did, by phone, last night. We managed to tell 4 people, in three phone calls, without actually using the “p” word. I mean, we used a different “p” word - saying that so far, our tests are “positive”. But no actual speaking of the big “P” word.
I’ve said it a couple of times, in passing, but J can’t seem to do it at all, yet. (He was also the one who REALLY wanted to wait another couple of weeks to tell anyone.) He says that it’s so fragile, and new, and he’s scared it will go away. And I completely understand, but I also think that right now things are okay, and we shouldn’t act as if we think things are going to go wrong (even though I don’t think we’ll ever be those hyper-enthusiastic uber-fertiles who start decorating the nursery at the first sign of a second line). And he agrees with me on this, too. So we’re slowly getting used to the idea. And crossing our fingers and everything else for our first ultrasound (this Monday) - it will probably be too early for a heartbeat (5w5d, I think), but it’ll be something concrete. I mean, I didn’t even get a follow-up beta, so I’m staring at my pile of HPTs and walking on eggshells until I have something more to hang onto.
I will share this, though: I’ve been switched from PIO to suppositories three times a day for the next 5 weeks or so. I’m not having huge amounts of discharge or anything as I’d been warned I might, but I’m really not such a fan of the suppository thing anyway. My vagina seems to find the prospect of things being shoved in it to be less than pleasant. Like, “Hey, I wasn’t even really involved in this process, except when I got a big needle poked through me that one day, so why are you shoving things in here now? I mean, really. Can’t a vagina get a rest?” So that’s been fun.
And in the meantime, I have all sorts of questions, and I can’t bring myself to ask them or to buy the sorts of books that might have the answers. Not until Monday, at least. And then we’ll see if we can say the words.
So even though we saw family last weekend, we didn’t tell anyone any news. It was so new and fresh. If they didn’t know about the cycle, or the specifics of the timing, I think we could have waited another couple of weeks (at least until our first ultrasound, if not until we saw a heartbeat). But they knew, to varying degrees, the cycle timing, and so we figured it was about time to share. Which we did, by phone, last night. We managed to tell 4 people, in three phone calls, without actually using the “p” word. I mean, we used a different “p” word - saying that so far, our tests are “positive”. But no actual speaking of the big “P” word.
I’ve said it a couple of times, in passing, but J can’t seem to do it at all, yet. (He was also the one who REALLY wanted to wait another couple of weeks to tell anyone.) He says that it’s so fragile, and new, and he’s scared it will go away. And I completely understand, but I also think that right now things are okay, and we shouldn’t act as if we think things are going to go wrong (even though I don’t think we’ll ever be those hyper-enthusiastic uber-fertiles who start decorating the nursery at the first sign of a second line). And he agrees with me on this, too. So we’re slowly getting used to the idea. And crossing our fingers and everything else for our first ultrasound (this Monday) - it will probably be too early for a heartbeat (5w5d, I think), but it’ll be something concrete. I mean, I didn’t even get a follow-up beta, so I’m staring at my pile of HPTs and walking on eggshells until I have something more to hang onto.
I will share this, though: I’ve been switched from PIO to suppositories three times a day for the next 5 weeks or so. I’m not having huge amounts of discharge or anything as I’d been warned I might, but I’m really not such a fan of the suppository thing anyway. My vagina seems to find the prospect of things being shoved in it to be less than pleasant. Like, “Hey, I wasn’t even really involved in this process, except when I got a big needle poked through me that one day, so why are you shoving things in here now? I mean, really. Can’t a vagina get a rest?” So that’s been fun.
And in the meantime, I have all sorts of questions, and I can’t bring myself to ask them or to buy the sorts of books that might have the answers. Not until Monday, at least. And then we’ll see if we can say the words.
Friday, December 09, 2005
4w2d(?): Speechless
Beta was 459. Yes, 459.
No repeat beta scheduled, but ultrasound (twins?) on the 19th.
Shock and gratitude and speechlessness.
I still can’t quite say the “p” word, but I did think it once.
My birthday is tomorrow. Best birthday present ever.
That is all.
No repeat beta scheduled, but ultrasound (twins?) on the 19th.
Shock and gratitude and speechlessness.
I still can’t quite say the “p” word, but I did think it once.
My birthday is tomorrow. Best birthday present ever.
That is all.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
9dp5dt: I can’t think in weeks yet
The lines on my new best friend, FRED, were darker today than yesterday. Still fidgeting anxiously until Friday’s beta. This afternoon, I was so numbingly tired I cried. And I’ve been really hungry. But mostly just tired. Oh so tired. I could just sleep from now until the beta.
On the plus side, I think, I watched an entire commercial filled with babies, and instead of feeling bitter, I felt hopeful. And during one of those “talk to your kids about drugs” commercials, I thought - hmm, someday I guess we’ll need to do that.
I’ve been so focused on the process I haven’t been able to envision what comes next. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m still incredibly cautious about this whole venture. Incredibly. But for a few minutes here and there, I’ve been able to imagine a time beyond this one. And it felt good.
Please, universe, don’t let this all crumble away.
On the plus side, I think, I watched an entire commercial filled with babies, and instead of feeling bitter, I felt hopeful. And during one of those “talk to your kids about drugs” commercials, I thought - hmm, someday I guess we’ll need to do that.
I’ve been so focused on the process I haven’t been able to envision what comes next. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m still incredibly cautious about this whole venture. Incredibly. But for a few minutes here and there, I’ve been able to imagine a time beyond this one. And it felt good.
Please, universe, don’t let this all crumble away.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
8dp5dt: Motivation
Okay, so I managed to do the PIO myself, with much coaching from J. It sucked, though. But I did it. Not sure how I’ll do alone, but success makes me a tiny bit more confident. (Of course, after I did the shot I had a huge meltdown and sobbed all over the couch. Hormones, right?) J has promised to be on the phone with me when I do the shots (on speaker phone, sillies - I certainly can’t imagine doing the shots while holding the phone - I don’t have enough hands as it is!).
Have I mentioned lately how much I lurve all of you? I told the nurse at the clinic that I knew it could be done because I had friends who had done it, and she asked if maybe one of these friends could just do my shots for me. Yeah, that would have been a nice option! Oh, how I wish we could all just drop in for snacks and shots any ol' time we wanted. (Gives new meaning to the phrase “body shots” doesn’t it!)
The one saving grace that I think will get me through the shots for the next couple of days is this: I took two HPTs today, and they were both positive. And not just in a squinting and hopping on one foot kind of way. J could even see the second line on the FRER in the somewhat dim light of the bedroom, with no coaching. So, um, I think maybe this worked? At least for now. Beta on Friday.
Have I mentioned lately how much I lurve all of you? I told the nurse at the clinic that I knew it could be done because I had friends who had done it, and she asked if maybe one of these friends could just do my shots for me. Yeah, that would have been a nice option! Oh, how I wish we could all just drop in for snacks and shots any ol' time we wanted. (Gives new meaning to the phrase “body shots” doesn’t it!)
The one saving grace that I think will get me through the shots for the next couple of days is this: I took two HPTs today, and they were both positive. And not just in a squinting and hopping on one foot kind of way. J could even see the second line on the FRER in the somewhat dim light of the bedroom, with no coaching. So, um, I think maybe this worked? At least for now. Beta on Friday.
Monday, December 05, 2005
7dp5dt (still): Help!!
Internets, we have a problem. Or at least, a situation.
There’s been a death in J’s family, and he’d really like to go to the funeral, which is Wednesday. That’s not exactly the problem (neither the death, which we knew was coming, nor J’s ability to get to the funeral - assuming he can rearrange work obligations). I really liked this man*, but I don’t think I can make it to the funeral. The stress of the travel, my allergies, the tension of waiting for my beta, and the papers I desperately need to finish all make it seem like not the best idea right now. Although in some ways it would be the easiest option.
So here’s the problem: if J goes to the funeral, I will have to figure out another method of administering the PIO shots for several days. I see a few options, but none is ideal.
1. Do them myself. I know it’s been done, but I’m having trouble envisioning how I’d contort myself to do them, and it seems like it’ll hurt way more if I do them myself, and while I got over the self-stabbing with tiny needles, this just seems different.
2. Find someone we know to do them. If we lived closer to family, or if I had any really really close, medically-inclined friends, this might work. But right now, I can’t think of who I’d ask to do them.
3. Find a nurse to do them. I think that there are nurses at the after-hours clinic run by the Evil HMO. So, if I think they know what they’re doing, I could try to make appointments for each night J would be gone and then take my stuff over there. It seems on the surface like this would be the easiest option, but something about it isn’t sitting right with me. For one thing, I’d be around a lot of sick people (I mean, that’s who generally uses the after-hours urgent care clinic). For another thing, I don’t actually know if they know how to do these shots. I suppose that’s less of a hurdle, though, since J didn’t know how to do them either, and he’s been fine. And finally, where am I going to heat my little heating pad? And will I get to rest for a few minutes afterward? And will they be nice and use my Hello Kitty band-aids and sing to distract me while they do the shot? I suspect not.
Sniffle. Poor me. And, um, help?
* I didn't mean to be glib about the death part of this whole story. He was a dear, sweet, jokester of a man - J's great-uncle, or something. The sibling of a grandparent, I think. He was a jovial man - full of life. The last really nice memory I have of him is from Thanksgiving a year ago. He was playing with his new granddaughter (adopted from China, actually) and the look of joy on his face as he watched her was just fantastic. He was beaming. I’m sorry we didn’t get to see him while he was sick, but I’m glad the vision I have of him in my head is a healthy, happy one.
There’s been a death in J’s family, and he’d really like to go to the funeral, which is Wednesday. That’s not exactly the problem (neither the death, which we knew was coming, nor J’s ability to get to the funeral - assuming he can rearrange work obligations). I really liked this man*, but I don’t think I can make it to the funeral. The stress of the travel, my allergies, the tension of waiting for my beta, and the papers I desperately need to finish all make it seem like not the best idea right now. Although in some ways it would be the easiest option.
So here’s the problem: if J goes to the funeral, I will have to figure out another method of administering the PIO shots for several days. I see a few options, but none is ideal.
1. Do them myself. I know it’s been done, but I’m having trouble envisioning how I’d contort myself to do them, and it seems like it’ll hurt way more if I do them myself, and while I got over the self-stabbing with tiny needles, this just seems different.
2. Find someone we know to do them. If we lived closer to family, or if I had any really really close, medically-inclined friends, this might work. But right now, I can’t think of who I’d ask to do them.
3. Find a nurse to do them. I think that there are nurses at the after-hours clinic run by the Evil HMO. So, if I think they know what they’re doing, I could try to make appointments for each night J would be gone and then take my stuff over there. It seems on the surface like this would be the easiest option, but something about it isn’t sitting right with me. For one thing, I’d be around a lot of sick people (I mean, that’s who generally uses the after-hours urgent care clinic). For another thing, I don’t actually know if they know how to do these shots. I suppose that’s less of a hurdle, though, since J didn’t know how to do them either, and he’s been fine. And finally, where am I going to heat my little heating pad? And will I get to rest for a few minutes afterward? And will they be nice and use my Hello Kitty band-aids and sing to distract me while they do the shot? I suspect not.
Sniffle. Poor me. And, um, help?
* I didn't mean to be glib about the death part of this whole story. He was a dear, sweet, jokester of a man - J's great-uncle, or something. The sibling of a grandparent, I think. He was a jovial man - full of life. The last really nice memory I have of him is from Thanksgiving a year ago. He was playing with his new granddaughter (adopted from China, actually) and the look of joy on his face as he watched her was just fantastic. He was beaming. I’m sorry we didn’t get to see him while he was sick, but I’m glad the vision I have of him in my head is a healthy, happy one.
7dp5dt: Miscellany and distraction
So, I was crampy yesterday. And a bit nauseous. Though that might be from pondering the crampiness. And trying to decide what brand of HPTs to buy (FRED, I suspect, but since I won’t let myself buy them yet I’m keeping busy by exploring my options). Did I meantion the crampy nausea? Beta’s not until Friday (16 dp retrieval!) so I have a long way yet to go. And no, I’m not going to wait that long to do an HPT.
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On an entirely different, and totally trivial, subject, I said I’d review all the flavors of Ga.torade I tried. Here are the reviews so far: Lemonade was pretty good. Tasted about like how all fake lemonades taste. Not too sweet. Pretty drinkable. Watermelon Ice? Blech. Not sure why I finished it. (Oh yeah. Because I was on bedrest and J wasn’t around to bring me another flavor. Bah.) Orange/Tropical blend? Eh. Not bad. I’d drink it again, but wouldn’t seek it out. I think I’m not all that into orange. The big winner, though, was the Fruit Punch. First of all, it wasn’t claiming to be something it’s not (e.g. an actual fruit flavor), plus there’s that whole childhood fruit punch thing that made it seem rather pleasant. Especially since I pretty much wasn’t allowed to drink fruit punch as a kid. So that’s my new flavor - now I have two to mix and match. (I also tried another of the Frost flavors - the turquoise one. It wasn’t bad, either, though I still prefer the purple.) Only I have to drink it right out of the bottle - something about pouring icy blue liquid into a glass is just weird - it looks like anti-freeze or something. I am a big fan of the sport bottles though. Very satisfying. And the fruit punch looks okay in a glass (though I still prefer to drink from the bottle). But now I’m a little bit addicted, especially to fruit punch. In fact, yesterday I bought it in the gallon-size bottle, which might last me a couple of days.
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One more random point: I’ve always liked Australia in concept. I’ve never been, so I don’t know firsthand, but this seems like yet another reason to like ‘em. Basically, there’s a proposal that’s been put forth to add ART and IVF to the topics covered in school-based sex ed classes, since it’s an issue that has a wide impact. Their point is that there will likely be students in the classes conceived through the use of reproductive technologies (not that the students will themselves be in need of the technologies) but still - demystifying IVF and bringing it out in the open? Sounds good to me.
---
On an entirely different, and totally trivial, subject, I said I’d review all the flavors of Ga.torade I tried. Here are the reviews so far: Lemonade was pretty good. Tasted about like how all fake lemonades taste. Not too sweet. Pretty drinkable. Watermelon Ice? Blech. Not sure why I finished it. (Oh yeah. Because I was on bedrest and J wasn’t around to bring me another flavor. Bah.) Orange/Tropical blend? Eh. Not bad. I’d drink it again, but wouldn’t seek it out. I think I’m not all that into orange. The big winner, though, was the Fruit Punch. First of all, it wasn’t claiming to be something it’s not (e.g. an actual fruit flavor), plus there’s that whole childhood fruit punch thing that made it seem rather pleasant. Especially since I pretty much wasn’t allowed to drink fruit punch as a kid. So that’s my new flavor - now I have two to mix and match. (I also tried another of the Frost flavors - the turquoise one. It wasn’t bad, either, though I still prefer the purple.) Only I have to drink it right out of the bottle - something about pouring icy blue liquid into a glass is just weird - it looks like anti-freeze or something. I am a big fan of the sport bottles though. Very satisfying. And the fruit punch looks okay in a glass (though I still prefer to drink from the bottle). But now I’m a little bit addicted, especially to fruit punch. In fact, yesterday I bought it in the gallon-size bottle, which might last me a couple of days.
---
One more random point: I’ve always liked Australia in concept. I’ve never been, so I don’t know firsthand, but this seems like yet another reason to like ‘em. Basically, there’s a proposal that’s been put forth to add ART and IVF to the topics covered in school-based sex ed classes, since it’s an issue that has a wide impact. Their point is that there will likely be students in the classes conceived through the use of reproductive technologies (not that the students will themselves be in need of the technologies) but still - demystifying IVF and bringing it out in the open? Sounds good to me.
Friday, December 02, 2005
4dp5dt: Progesterone lullabies
I went in today for a progesterone check. Nurse Sweetie was there, as was Nurse Newbie, who I’d thought had experience in another office and just not theirs (but that might have been another of the army of new nurses). So Nurse Newbie did my blood draw. Or tried to, anyway. Here’s the thing - I’m an easy stick (except after a week of daily monitoring). My veins today were lovely. Honestly, I probably could have drawn my own blood (except I think that if giving myself shots made me squeamish, drawing my own blood would be even worse). So, Nurse Newbie poked, and didn’t get anything, and rooted around a bit, and still nothing, and Nurse Sweetie came over and maneuvered a bit until I said “ow” and then pulled it all and started over (at which point she managed to do the whole thing smoothly and without any fuss).
Nurse Newbie (the same one, I think, though again I really can’t tell - the first time I met one of them was at transfer when I was lying spread eagled, doped on Valium, and everyone in the room (J included) was wearing those paper jumpers, hair covers, and face masks - so I’m justified in not knowing which was which) was the one who did my callback this afternoon. Apparently, my progesterone was a bit low (18.5 today) - they like to see it above 20. Though what she actually said was that they like to see it in the 20-80 range, which made my paltry 18.5 seem dire. I think a different nurse might have anticipated my reaction and provided more reassurance. In fact, I think this may be one of those times when I’d be better off with fewer details. I’m trying to remind myself that it’s not that low, and that increasing the PIO should raise my progesterone levels, and that it’s normal for them to adjust the dosage. Breathe in, breathe out.
My mom called right before we did the shot tonight, so she provided my evening distraction. Usually, J sings to me to keep my mind occupied while he’s doing the shot (one day, he did the Jeapordy theme song!) so I asked mom to sing, and she sang me a simple little song with infinite variations - the same song she used to sing to me when I was little. And she was out shopping at the time, which made it even more special - my mommy sang me a lullaby while she was out in public. It’s the same thing I’ll sing to our kids someday (whenever that day comes) when they’re sleepy or fussy or getting a shot. It’s a good mommy thing to do.
Nurse Newbie (the same one, I think, though again I really can’t tell - the first time I met one of them was at transfer when I was lying spread eagled, doped on Valium, and everyone in the room (J included) was wearing those paper jumpers, hair covers, and face masks - so I’m justified in not knowing which was which) was the one who did my callback this afternoon. Apparently, my progesterone was a bit low (18.5 today) - they like to see it above 20. Though what she actually said was that they like to see it in the 20-80 range, which made my paltry 18.5 seem dire. I think a different nurse might have anticipated my reaction and provided more reassurance. In fact, I think this may be one of those times when I’d be better off with fewer details. I’m trying to remind myself that it’s not that low, and that increasing the PIO should raise my progesterone levels, and that it’s normal for them to adjust the dosage. Breathe in, breathe out.
My mom called right before we did the shot tonight, so she provided my evening distraction. Usually, J sings to me to keep my mind occupied while he’s doing the shot (one day, he did the Jeapordy theme song!) so I asked mom to sing, and she sang me a simple little song with infinite variations - the same song she used to sing to me when I was little. And she was out shopping at the time, which made it even more special - my mommy sang me a lullaby while she was out in public. It’s the same thing I’ll sing to our kids someday (whenever that day comes) when they’re sleepy or fussy or getting a shot. It’s a good mommy thing to do.
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