Oh happy day...

Saturday night something happened. Or rather, didn't happen. And it was a big. Effing. Deal. Ya'll.

I took my last! Progesterone! Suppository!

Ahhhh, the glorious freedom of NOT wearing a pad that crackles like a diaper if you're listening hard enough. The freedom of NOT waking up an hour early every day to insert the blasted thing. And the sweet relief of NOT feeling like I'm bleeding all the time because of the stupid stuff leaking out of me.

Of course, in that very "sane" way of pregnant women, I'm now scared that something will go wrong because I'm not taking it anymore. My cramps have been a little worse today, and even though my books assure me that the baby is DOUBLING (yes, you read that right) during the course of ONE SINGLE WEEK and even though I KNOW my retroverted uterus causes me to feel more cramps...I still worry.

Today was THE craziest Monday I have had in a while. It's 4 p.m. and I am just sitting down to my desk for the first time since 9 a.m. I am going to go home, put my feet up, NOT take a progesterone suppository, and whine until Mr. M. cooks me dinner.

Aaalllmost to twelve weeks. Grow, baby, grow!

All is well!

Yesterday's appointments went SO well, and were very reassuring to me!

The nurse at the OB picked up the heartbeat on the Doppler right away and said it sounded right on.

And then, at the MFM doctor, the ultrasound showed that the amniotic sac had grown just like it was supposed to and was looking great! We even got to see the baby moving its arms around which was SO adorable.

The doctor did an NT scan as well. Now, he didn't even really tell me what he was doing and I only figured out what was going on once I Googled "NT Scan" today. ANYway, the nasal bone and neck fluid were both looking good and had no indicators of a chromosomal problem.

He did ask if we wanted to do the blood screening test for Downs and Edwards syndromes. After talking with Mr. M., we declined. We both felt it would only add to my stress at this point, and I am trying SO hard to stay relaxed and de-stressed. Plus, if the baby has a syndrome it already has it and there's nothing we can do. If it has Downs, it won't affect our decision to carry the pregnancy to term. If it has Edwards it will most likely die and there is nothing we can do. It was a very stressful decision, but ever since then I have been at peace and feel like we made the right choice.

So now I have to endure the SEVEN WEEK WAIT until my next ultrasound on August 10. I will be 18 weeks and hopefully we will be able to tell what we are having then! I see the OB again in three weeks so at least she will check with the Doppler, which will provide some reassurance.

If all goes well I am planning on having the ultrasound tech write down the sex and put it in the envelope so we can give it to the host of our gender reveal party. Should be fun!

Right now my goal is to make it out of the first trimester which will be "official" on July 13.

Where am I?

I know, I know...I've been a pretty sucky blogger lately.

I don't know where I went. I feel like before I got my BFP, I had a lot more...personality or something. I saw humor in things, I had spirit and attitude and a zest for life. Now I feel like all of those personality traits have fallen into the background and have been replaced with one all-consuming feeling: SCARED.

First off, let me just say that as far as I know, things are OK with the pregnancy. Today I hit 11 weeks, which according to The Bump means the Baby J is about the size of a lime.

Now let's talk about why I don't WANT to talk.

I've been feeling hopeful, which has me terrified. I feel like I don't have the right to be hopeful.

I feel terribly superstitious about EVERYthing. My pants and clothes are tightening up due to bloating, lack of exercise and the blessed progesterone. The other day I even walked into a maternity store at the mall to look for a belly band of some kind, but had to leave after I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I just knew that as soon as I bought something directly related to being pregnant and took it home with me, something would go wrong and I would end up bursting into tears every time I saw it again.

The closest I was able to come was yesterday, when I bought three shift-like dresses that will be super cool and comfortable to wear to work and around town during the summer. Stretchy knit dresses are really ALL I want to wear right now.

I was going to write about how last Thursday, June 16, would have been my first appointment with the RE if I hadn't gotten pregnant. But I couldn't. I could only imagine writing that post and then having to call her the next day for another new patient appointment.

I should write about how I haven't had any bleeding, any at all since my last post, but I know I can't since I might be jinxing myself. (I went to the bathroom right after writing this and was SURE I was going to see blood).

Tomorrow I have two back-to-back appointments: one with my OB and one with the MFM (high risk pregnancy specialist). In a way, this is a good thing, because by the time I get the first appointment over with I will know where I stand and won't have to be as nervous for the second appointment.

So that Mr. M. doesn't have to take off work, my grandmother (who is for all intensive purposes my mom) is going with me. She has never been able to do the whole "see the baby on the ultrasound" thing so she is excited. I am just hoping everything is still fine. Especially hoping that the sac around the baby has grown like it was supposed to. *fingers crossed*

And now, time for a [RANT]:
My husband is lazy. I know this and have always known this. He works long hours at a stressful job and like nothing better than to come home in the evening and collapse on the couch with his Xbox.

Now. I'm pregnant. I'm high risk. I'm supposed to take it easy. But he is doing next to nothing to help me pick up the slack. The first time I ask him to do something, he'll kind of roll his eyes and agree to do it (in a humorous way, not an aggressive way). But the more I remind him, the more pissy he gets, until when he finally gets around to doing it when it's all dramatic sighs and bad attitude.

It makes me want to kill him.

I was off work Monday, and used the time to tidy and clean the house. I'm talking dusting, cleaning countertops and windows, etc. I cannot STAND when the house is messy and it certainly adds to me stress.

Yesterday, AFTER working a full day, I went to the grocery store even though he is technically supposed to go with me so I don't have to lift heavy things. I unloaded the groceries from the car, put them all away, put a steak in to marinade and asked him to please unload and re-load the dishwasher "some time tonight." He said okay. A little while later, I cooked dinner then cleared all the plates. I am totally exhausted, but I don't want to remind him because then he'll just sulk. My grandmother is coming to stay with us so the kitchen really needed to be clean. So at 10:15, I went into the kitchen and very calmly started doing the work. I wasn't sulking, or clanging things around - I just wanted it done so I figured I needed to do it myself. About two minutes later he comes storming in and snarls, "I'll DO the dishes," and starts "helping," which meant throwing things into drawers, clanging them around and having SUCH a bad attitude that I finally told him to go away.

He went to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed with his hand over his eyes (he is SUCH a drama queen) and later apologized in a very passive-aggressive, "Well, I'm sorry I made you mad and I'm such a horrible husband." AND HERE COME THE SWEEPING DRAMATIC STATEMENTS, FOLKS.

I was so. Mad. He simply CANNOT continue to be this selfish and lazy. I am super stressed already and he is just. Not. Helping Me. Especially if we have an actual child, he is going to have to man up, grow some balls and help me without bitching and whining about it like a freaking three year old. Does he not realize how unattractive that is in a grown, successful man? Sure, you can THINK those whiny, "why me?" thoughts, but actually saying them out loud is just...juvenile.

I was planning on cooking dinner for Mr. M. and Grandma tonight, but I called her and said I just want to go out to dinner with her. I need a break from him. I grew up an only child and very much appreciate space and alone time, of which I have NONE. He never leaves me alone and is always...there. It would be the same with ANY person I spent this much time around - I need some time to be alone and to breathe.

[END OF RANT]

If you made it all the way through that whole post, you are a rock star. Thank you for hanging in there with me!

Fingers crossed, prayers said, love and light sent, etc. for me tomorrow, please! I will update as soon as I know something.

It isn't getting any easier.

More bleeding over the weekend. I woke up on Saturday in a good mood, ready to enjoy the day with Mr. M. I put in my morning progesterone suppository and lay in bed for a while. I noticed that I was feeling extra crampy but tried to ignore it. Then, right before we were ready to leave, I went to the bathroom and had dark pink on the TP. It hasn't ever been that color before.

Maybe the suppository somehow irritated my vagina or cervix or something. The spotting stopped pretty much as soon as it started. But it scared me. And it made me feel once again completely and totally helpless. There's nothing more I can do. Hell, there's nothing even the doctors can do at this point.

Then last night our pug jumped onto me from the back of the couch and I screamed in fear. He landed towards the outside of my stomach, closer to my hipbone, but that didn't stop me from smacking the sh*t out of him and screaming hysterically at him.

Crazy high-rick pregnancy woman much?

I tried to explain it to Mr. M. last night. How it feels to live in this constant terror. Every trip to the bathroom, every cramp, every moment of NOT feeling pregnant...how they weigh on you, build up on your shoulders and press on your heart and on your sanity. Am I going to bleed today? Is this going to be the day it is over? Is it already over and I just don't know it? Can I afford to hope and be joyful? Is the sac growing like it's supposed to? It's almost more than I can bear.

But I can bear it. And I WILL bear it, if that's what it takes.

We told Mr. M's family this weekend, finally. Every time we wanted to tell them we would have another bleeding scare and put it off. We finally just bit the bullet. They are all excited. I was upset because he told him dad via phone and I wasn't even in the room to share in the moment. In fact, am still upset about it. Oh, well. They are all so excited about this baby - I just hope we don't have to break their hearts.

I need a fucking vacation.

Another Scare

Enter sigh of relief here [WHEW].

After some spotting on Tuesday and waking up to some bits of "stuff" yesterday and today, I've been pretty nervous.

I had my appointment with the perinatal doctor today. I was going to leave work at 10:30. Imagine my horror at 10:15 when I went to the bathroom and saw a big brownish splotch on my liner. And then when I wiped...reddish brown all over the TP.

I didn't call Mr. M. to tell him - he was meeting me at the doctor's office. We arrived within 10 minutes of each other and I told him what was going on. He looked understandably worried.

We waited in that tiny waiting room full of HUGELY pregnant, smug-looking women for an hour and 20 minutes while I felt myself bleeding and rapidly losing my grip on sanity. Finally we were called back and a super nice ultrasound tech brought out good ol' wandy.

There was a huge TV screen on the wall for me to look at and as soon as the baby was on the screen I started looking for that telltale flicker. And I saw it!!!!!!!

We still have a baby!

Baby was measuring 8w5d (I am 9w1d) which she said is in the normal range. Heartbeat was 179 which was also normal.

Dr. M., the perinatologist, came in a talked over some things with us. We didn't really learn anything new. He showed me a spot that could be gathered blood right outside the sac, that could be causing the bleeding. He also said that my retroverted uterus also causes my cervix to tilt the other way, which can make cramping worse.

The only slightly worrisome part was when he said that the little sac around the baby looks a little small. He said it might not be anything to worry about but that he needs to monitor me a little more closely to make sure it grows correctly. Thanks for yet another thing to worry about, doc!

I am to continue with the beloved progesterone suppositories. Joy of joys.

I am back at work now and feel like a gigantic weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I'm sure the stress will return eventually, but for now I am super relieved.

Now I have to wait TWO WHOLE WEEKS for my next ultrasound. On the same day I'll have one at the OB at 9 a.m. and one with Dr. M. at 11 a.m. And yes, apparently I do need to go to both.

Two weeks is a long damn time, but I will try to make it!

Clinging to that hope, bloggy friends...

Threatened miscarriage.

I should have written this post several days ago, but I just couldn't bring myself to put it down in writing. Even now I am forcing myself because it needs to be said.

Last Wednesday I added two more words to my "least favorite words in the world" list:
Threatened Miscarriage.

Wednesday I was feeling good. I even blogged that day about some tough stuff and managed to keep a good attitude for the day. I was breezing along, doing my work, picking out new Scentsy from a co-worker's catalog and chatting with my co-workers.

At about 3 p.m., I went to the bathroom. And saw blood. Quite a bit. It had soaked through the thin pad I was wearing. It was dark red/brownish.

I raced from the bathroom to my office and called the doctor. She advised me to go to the ER. Unfortunately, I work 25 miles away from that specific ER so I had a bit of a drive. On the way, I called Mr. M., who also works 25 miles away, and my dear friend L, who lives right by the ER so could meet me there.

This is a new hospital, so everything was shiny and clean. The ER was practically deserted. I stood at the reception desk, shivering and filling out paperwork, for about 10 minutes before they took me back to do blood pressure and such. L showed up at about that time, astonished that I had beat her there (I may have been speeding). She stayed with me while they took me back to a room and had me change.

The ER Dr, Dr B, was kind of insane. He was young and intense and talked really fast and was very blunt. He tried an abdominal ultrasound and got nothing, so he did a trans vaginal (oh yes, a date with wandy). In order to do it he had me prop my bum up on a sheet-covered bedpan, which was definitely interesting.

I couldn't breathe as I waited for him to say something. And then...

"Well, here's the baby, and here's the heartbeat."

I couldn't believe it and just kept saying, "Really? Really?"

The heartbeat was at 143 and the baby was measuring 7 weeks 6 days, which was right on track (and actually more on track than the previous measurement).

I called Mr. M., who still hadn't made it to the hospital, right away and he couldn't believe it either. We both were expecting everything to be over.

Mr. M. showed up soon after that. Luckily, Dr. A. was on call at the hospital that day so they were able to call and speak to her. I had to wait around for a urine test to make sure I didn't have a bladder infection, then wait for my blood to be typed (they simply refused to believe that I already knew I was O negative) and another Rogam shot (which it turns out I didn't need, but oh well).

Dr. B. could give us no cause of the bleeding. He said my cervix was still closed. He simply called it a threatened miscarriage and told me to take it easy, and that there was nothing they could do.

So that's what I've been dealing with lately. I met with Dr. A. the next day and she said she was very relieved at the heartbeat and had been REALLY worried about our first heartbeat of 112. I am to continue to take it easy with no exercise, heavy lifting, strenuous chores, sex, etc.

To make matters worse, my sweet girl (of the canine variety) is having bladder surgery this morning to remove bladder stones and I am so worried about her. I couldn't even pick her up and cuddle her this morning because I can't lift her. When the vet tech came to take her from me, she tried to hide behind me and my heart just broke.

And, of course, I am gaining weight, too much weight. Not a ridiculous amount but enough to make my pants tighter than I want them. I usually maintain my weight with exercise but that is completely verboten at this time.

Sigh. I am still struggling to hold onto my hope. Each day I wake up still pregnant is another small victory. Any day that passes quickly, yes even a weekend day, is a blessing.

As Dr. A. said to me on Thursday, "Someone wants this baby to be born."

I'm hoping that Someone will continue to bless and watch over our little family each and every day.

Iffy.

Iffy. My new least favorite word.

On Friday as Mr. M. and I were sitting around, getting ready to leave for the funeral, my phone rang. It was Dr. A's office. I assumed it was a nurse calling to give me the results of my progesterone blood test from Thursday.

Imagine my shock when it was Dr. A. herself.

My progesterone was low - 13. Now I know nothing about progesterone except that it is an important pregnancy hormone, so I don't know if 13 is gasp-worthy or not. I have purposefully avoided running to Dr. Google because at this point I don't want to scare myself.

Anyway. Dr. A. told me she was switching me to progesterone suppositories (which are GROSS but at least they're not shots).

Then she straight up told me that this is a very "iffy" point in my pregnancy and that I could lose the pregnancy.

I shakily passed the phone to Mr. M. so that she could tell him everything and he could answer questions. The tears were pouring down my face and semi-hysterical sobs were happening every time I took a breath.

Sheer terror.

I followed Dr. A.'s orders for the rest of the weekend to "sit around and do nothing." No lifting, no exercise, not even any cleaning. It drove me NUTS because when I am stressed ALL I want to do is clean. Mr. M. was very sweet and coddled me and took good care of me all weekend.

Yesterday I went for another progesterone blood test. They called this morning and my levels are back to normal. That's some good news, at least. I am to keep on the suppositories until Dr. A. tells me otherwise - probably until at least ten weeks.

I wish I knew what was going on in that uterus of mine. Yesterday I had myself convinced I wasn't pregnant anymore - I barely have any nausea, my boobs are only a little bit sore and I just don't FEEL that pregnant. I was convinced they were going to call with bad news today.

So for now, I'm hanging in there, and waiting. I have an appointment with a maternal fetal medicine specialist Thursday, June 9. He will do an ultrasound so at least I will know if things are still ok.

This waiting is the worst.

So for now, I'm hanging in there, trying not to lose my mind.

...and trying not to think about the word "iffy" too much.