Braxton baby

Yesterday I spent the entire day ironing and watching America's Next Top Model--a very guilty addiction that I'm trying to cure by getting through all the episodes as quickly as possible. Seb came downstairs and asked me to go up with him to see something he was working on in one of the upstairs bedrooms and this required climbing the ladder. I'm pretty bad about climbing this ladder anyway because I'm at that stage in the pregnancy where hills and stairs are my nemesis and I will do anything to avoid them. When I reached the top of the ladder a huge contraction gripped me and I had to actually sit down and breathe through it. Even though I knew it was brought on by standing too long and then exerting myself it scared the bejesus out of me. I don't want to go in to labor at 18 weeks and although it probably wasn't that at all it felt like that and gave me a lot of food for thought.

my ANTM pregnancy pose--attempting to look fierce with some attitude

My sun allergy is slightly better but maybe that's because I've been avoiding the sun like crazy. You can see from my clothes in the picture that I'm choosing long sleeves and jeans even though it's in the upper 80's here. My skin still itches a lot even though most of the red bumps are gone and I think it will take a few weeks to feel completely normal. I'm hoping it's just a temporary hormone surge and nothing that lasts the entire pregnancy. It's really going to ruin my vacation plans. Just riding in the car in Florida you can't help but get sun. Besides that my vacation will be spent inside on the couch and not in my parents beautiful new swimming pool. Seb of course will be just on the other side of the sliding glass doors floating on the raft with his drink and feeling no sympathy whatsoever!

Sunny scratches

I have this weird sun allergy which I talked about here on my other blog. It's really painful, red and itchy! Luckily it's just on my arms and neck.

When I googled it I found out that it was due to excess estrogeon during pregnancy. And I also discovered that there isn't anything to be done about it. I just have to try to avoid the sun. I'm sure it's common to lots of women but I suppose if you don't have a summer pregnancy then you never realize it.

Underwears

As thrilling as it is to be pregnant a second time I have to admit that second pregnancies are not as exciting as the first. Half the time I forget I'm pregnant. "oh yeah... not supposed to eat that cheese...oh well!"

And hey who is going to fish turds out of the cat box if it isn't me? Answer, nobody.

And the maternity wardrobe is non existent. For tops I just buy everything two sizes up in stretch fabrics, usually black. For bottoms I have exactly one pair of maternity jeans, a stretchy sort of skirt and two pairs of maternity shorts. I'm comfortable and fashionable and I don't look like walking a circus tent. I just don't want to invest in pregnancy clothes. It doesn't interest me.

The only problem I still have is underwear. I'm beyond regular underwear. I just passed that milestone last week. And yes I must BUY those ugly spandex underwear from the grocery store. I hate wearing those things. I love pretty underwear and having to wear those things is pure torture. But dang they are comfortable. There's nothing worse than having lace underwear riding up your butt crack. So I get used to them and then I bend over and Seb says "my god those are horrible!" because there's nothing more appalling to a French husband than women in ugly underwear.

Cutting the cord

Little Miss Sushi has been quiet lately and not making much fuss at all. I was worried a few days ago, but now I know after a few bumps that everything in sushi land is okay and I was pleased to get the confirmation with a little tap, dainty and polite as if to say "Aw ma I'm fine...stop all your worrying, jeez!"

I have another monthly visit soon and then perhaps another one and then that's it. I will be left floating doctor-less until we arrive in Mexico and settle in in September. The thought terrifies me even though I know people switch doctors mid-pregnancy all the time.

Actually I haven't even told Dr. Stonehenge that I will be moving yet. I just didn't see the point. I knew he'd treat me with less interest and probably wouldn't offer me all these wonderful scans if I did tell him and frankly I have been hoping that a solution would manifest where I'd get to stay. But I will have to tell him this next visit in two weeks time. I really do dread telling him and cutting that tie. It just seems weird.

Giving birth in Mexico

Attention y'all there's lots of birth talk here. I just thought I'd say that in case someone wants to click off this post.

Well it is looking more and more like the baby will arrive in Mexico come hell or high water. Even though I have been trying desperately to come up with a Plan B there doesn't seem to be any other solution but to have the baby there in November.

I'm not afraid of Mexican hospitals or clinics in the sense that you might think. I'm pretty confident in fact that all of the ones we visited in April are top notch medical facilities. The fear is in the word medical. I'm not looking for a medical birth and Mexico it seems is all about medical. The articles I've come across have confirmed what I suspected. The doula/midwife is an archaic notion of past ways and her role is becoming nonexistant in Mexico. It's all about sleek, shiny medical facilities and high tech equipment. The midwife is for poor people living in the rural countryside. The association of her with a hospital is absurd. Her place in society is slowly dying out and she is offered little respect for her knowledge or ability.

I have been corresponding with a few women in Mexico, namely a cheery woman whose e-mail address was passed on to me because she is American and recently gave birth in the town where we'll be living and in the same hospital I am slated to deliver in. Maria is actually Mexican/American spending the first half of her 30 years in the USA and then moving to Mexico in her teens. I sometimes feel her eagerness to defend her Mexican side's medical capacity seeping through her e-mails. I think she too thinks I doubt Mexico's medical capacity. I have spent time trying to convince her that I am looking for a doula/midwife birth because it's what I want, not because it's what I'm trying to avoid. (I want that but in a hospital setting in case something goes wrong and I of course want some drugs because I'm a wimp).

After our initial getting to know you letters back and forth I delved in to my list of questions about her birth experience, a lot of it based on my birth experience. There were a lot of red flags in her responses to my questions (my questions are in bold followed by her answers):

Was there a bath available for pre labor? My water broke and I took my shower at home and then left to the hospital where they just prepared me.

Okay they "prepared her" (like surgery?) Maybe she's talking about attaching a fetal monitor but I did feel from my hospital tour that the doctor is definitely in charge of it all and you'd get "prepped." I got the distinct impression from talking with people that I'd be going in for a scheduled tumor removal in my uterus.

Were there a lot of sages femmes (doulas) or was it mainly just doctors in the maternity? Only Doctor, Pediatrician, the anesthecia specialist, and a nurse.

There's that doctor again. I have a big fear of him/her. I'm baffled about the pediatrician part. Isn't it a little early for him to show up?

-Did you get to keep the baby in the room with you if you wanted? No they bring the baby when its time to feed him only for and hour. Anyone can go see the baby to the crib section through glass. It is very secure so no one enters but the nurses.

There seems to be a big issue about baby stealing in Mexico which kind of freaked me out. a) I don't want my baby stolen b) I don't want to have to enter a digicode to go visit my baby c) visiting babies through glass went out in the US in the sixties with my mom's mandatory tubal ligation (because her doctor said four children was enough) d) breastfeeding through glass? explain please...

-Did you get to have your husband stay overnight after the birth if you wanted to ? Yes my husband entered through the whole labor part and went with the doctor after they took the baby to the crib section with the nurses. Then he stayed over night, they can stay and visit you all day.

Okay again here's that "take the baby" part.

Maybe I was spoiled with my son's birth. My birth was attended by two wonderful midwives who gently coached me through every step and yes who actually "cheered" in unison when I made any progress (annoying at the time but helpful in retrospect). The doctor was only called in when the baby got stuck. I regretted that part. I wished I hadn't self dosed myself so much during the epidural so I could have stood to help him turn. I vowed to try to go a little lighter on the meds next time so I could feel my legs and stand. Anything to avoid the dreaded forceps again.

After the delivery he was immediately placed on my chest, cord still attached. He was briefly swiped and swaddled and then left with me and Seb alone in the room for an hour. The lights were dimmed. He never left my side from that moment on. He slept in my hospital bed at night and had a small bed in my room for times when I was tired. It just felt right. It's the way it's done in almost all French hospitals and the way I wanted it to be again. The only change I wanted was to eliminate the doctor entirely if at all possible. Not that the doctor was a big baddie but when he stepped in the entire tone changed and he kind of took over.

Maria was very kind to answer my questions and I understand that she is giving me her version of what I want to hear. She somehow thinks it will comfort or please me to know that birth in Mexico is nothing to fear-- babies are safely locked behind glass and doctors won't leave me squatting over a bucket like some poor mountain woman. What she doesn't understand is that is exactly what I feel is wrong. I don't think I could ever convince her otherwise.

So here I stand worrying in my fifth month of pregnancy. I feel a little trapped by the choices in Mexico. I'm trying to be open minded about it all but the time between when we arrive and when I give birth is short and I know I won't be able to do much about it. Isn't there any way I can be here in France two days before the baby's due?

Leftover kindness

Something weird is happening. The secretary in Dr. Stonehenge's office has started bantering with me. She'll say things like "so is everything going well?" or "what are you now, four months along?" just as I'm scribbling out my check. Last time she asked me if I was happy about the turn of events and then went on to ask me how long I'd been cycling before I got pregnant even though I know she knows. I mean she knows. She has my files right there and she knows me by now. But it was almost like she wanted to hear it first hand because she seems so genuinely interested in co-basking in the glory that is pregnant me. Before she always kind of snarled at me and cut me off mid sentence on the telephone when I told her my cycle day; "yes, yes we know you're cycling...again" And before she never liked giving me Saturday appointments. Now she interrupts the doctor on a little intercom I never even knew she had and asks him if it's okay on my behalf.

I feel a little odd about all this new attention. Dr. Stonehenge actually smiles at me now. This friendly secretary shares in my good news. People there like me again and whereas before I felt like the punchline to a deeply unfunny joke (as Julie so eloquently puts it), now I am The Success Story.

Odd. I don't need the attention now. I don't care about it. I needed it several months ago but now it's just a bunch of icing on an elaborately overdecorated cake.

I wish I could leave bottles of all this extra kindness --at the counter top of the reception desk, in the waiting room, by the old ultrasound machine, --for all the people coming in for scans to see how big a follicle had grown, if it had grown at all or if it was once again all another bust.

Wouldn't that be nice?

Leaping lizards

Last week I stuffed my foot into my crumbling, old, falling-to-pieces slippers and a strange lump in them aggravated me. I picked up the left one and stuck my hand in to straighten out the crinkle. "These old things are so lumpy and crappy. I'll have to throw these out and get some new.....AHHHHHH!" And suddenly a creature jumped from inside the slipper onto my shirt. I didn't have my glasses on yet so I couldn't tell if it was a spider or a lizard or what, but it was heavy. It was a lizard, a forlorn tailless guy who when swatted from my shirt, scurried under a cabinet in the kitchen and hid. It was the creepiest feeling I've had in weeks. A cold shiver ran through me for over an hour.

Feelings...it's what makes us human right? The ability to feel extreme emotion.

Yesterday's ultrasound was on that same wavelength, the same emotional caliber as the lizard attack. Like some kind of weird progesterone influenced dream we were all there, Dr. Stonehenge, Seb and Little S and me, all of us staring at the giant, Monday Night Football ultrasound screen in 4D as Stonehenge asked "do you want to know the sex?" A very pregnant pause followed, most likely having to do with the realization that this moment would repeat itself in our minds the rest of our lives. The completion of our family. The closing of the circle.

He pointed to the screen "Well it's a girl" he said pointing to the triple stripe of the labia, explaining how girl parts form and how with such new technology there could be little doubt.

And so we now know exactly what a lottery winner feels like five seconds after the last winning number is announced. And we walked around with stupid smiles on our face the rest of the day, even though it was pouring down rain and the sky was filled with awful black clouds and thunder that shook the house.

A lizard in my slipper indeed.

Pink

I have my monthly appointment tomorrow morning with Dr. Stonehenge and hopefully we'll get to have a look at Miss Sushi and see just how much she's grown. The anxiety before these appointments is horrid and I just try to put them out of my mind, which I'm pretty good at. The amount of relief upon hearing that everything is okay each time is like a soldier being told that "the war is over...you can go home" I keep waiting for a bomb to drop.

My mom says "oh no you have to think good thoughts, pink thoughts honey" Moms is new age so it's all about energy and chakras and the like,--her sometimes annoying philosophy but one we've kids have haddrilled into us our whole lives. In spite of her warnings the black clouds are always sitting on the horizon and I can't eliminate them. They won't go away and I just don't get it.

This is probably why I wrote that last post about feeling guilty and all those recent posts about the amniocentesis. I just don't feel comfortable with this pregnancy yet. I can't get into pregnancy talk with other expecting moms on the playground. I skirt talking about this pregnancy and talk about pregnancy by realting to my first pregnancy. I haven't bought any maternity clothes even though nothing fits anymore. I almost pretend I am not pregnant.

And I've thrown away so much baby stuff lately it's almost weird. I've given away almost everything to charity in the past month. I tell myself it's because we're moving, but deep inside of me it makes me feel relieved to get rid of all this stuff. I have no idea why but I feel like it's bad luck to have it around.

I am trying to think pink thoughts mom. I really am but it's hard to wrap my head around it. I have no idea why.

The annoying pregnancy blog syndrome

Everything seems to be smooth sailing lately. I'm 13 weeks and the baby is fluttering a lot, meaning twice a day or so, reassuring let me tell you, and I am feeling much better physically. I have energy and I am taking advantage of it by cleaning and packing for Mexico.

Okay I have to admit I'm not sure whether posting pregnancy photos on a ttc blog is appropriate. In fact I question whether or not it's even appropriate to talk about pregnancy on such a blog or complain about morning sickness, tiredness and the like. Even though it's probably 90 percent friends and family reading this blog, the other 10 percent seems to be the anonymous stranger (some who have left kind comments in the past) and some who may have hurt feelings (I know...I've been there, clicking off many an annoying pregnancy blog faster than lightning to protect myself)

This blog was started simply as an outlet for me until I could get pregnant (which I was sure would happen fast). I honestly thought it would rapidly turn in to a real pregnancy blog, complete with nursery photos and belly shots *groan* and one of those "how many days left tickers, " ...the works. But as fate would have it I didn't get pregnant very fast at all and fell in to some pits, putting me right back where I was when I was in my early 30's before Little S came along. I went through a lot of pain and anger and dredged my way through nearly two years of added ttc, added to the six years I already had under my belt. This wasn't destined to be a pregnancy blog very fast at all. I realized after a year of setbacks I was in it for the long haul, again.

So maybe it's not appropriate to keep a blog such as this and turn it in to a blatant pregnancy blog. Maybe it's better to let this blog die as is.

Or maybe it's absolutely appropriate that it should turn in to one of those annoying pregnancy blogs, ticker, belly shots and all just like I originally planned. Maybe it puts a cap and seal on all the pain left behind in posts like this and this and this. Maybe that's me sticking my tounge out and blowing rasberries at the ttc gods, The Splotch Lady and her clipboard, and Ernestine and the Hope Villain and all those moments where I felt like THIS.

Maybe...

Does anyone have any thoughts before I decide whether to pull the plug? Comments?

Small, MEDium, LARGE

It's funny but I have small medium and large bump days. Today my bump is small and barely noticeable and I can even wear those cute pre-maternity clothes I bought a few weeks ago, whereas the other day it was impossible.

I'm not sure what makes me inflate and deflate so much. I know after a good meal the bump feels like it's sticking out two feet in front of me but there are some days when I wake up with a bump that big right off the bat and it stays with me all day long.

On one of my big bump days I tried on some of my old maternity jeans to see if they wouldn't be more comfortable and they were falling down each time I took a step. I guess I still have a few weeks of in between time.

Feeling very Hamlet

I really can't keep a straight head about the amnio. I keep flip flopping on what to do. I've discussed it with a few friends who had the procedure done and they all say it's scary yes but it gave them peace of mind. Another friend said "don't do it." She said that she had a lot of cramping afterwards and she was sure she was losing the baby. "You can't lose this baby Chris. You worked too hard to get it."

But at the same time I'm scared because I would like to make sure that everything is okay. I'd like to have the peace of mind that I will deliver a healthy baby.

So many people have asked me about the amnio. At a party at my in-laws people kept commenting on my pregnancy and then openly asking me when it was scheduled for. It was assumed I suppose that I would have the amnio because of my age. I just said "we're trying to decide" and left it at that. I don't feel like I want to discuss this with anyone but Seb and a few close friends. It's odd how it's the second question I get asked after the due date though. I feel like people are saying "okay yeah you're pregnant but we want to know is it a healthy baby?" should we really be getting excited here or not?

So I am flip-flopping. I keep telling myself that at the next ultrasound (ie. next appointment in my case because Dr. Stonehenge does one every month!) I'll know more. We'll see more. We can decide then. Meanwhile the clock is ticking.

Oh and by the way I can feel the baby moving! I wrote about it here on my other blog.

The second tri

We're back from our mini week in Burgundy and Normandie and and oh how the belly has expanded. New clothes I showed off to my friend Dee, bragging that they were so cute and not at all like maternity clothes just barely fit now. I only wore them once. Oh well, I figure that the post pregnancy bulge lasts just as long as pre pregnancy so I'll at least have something to wear then. I'll have to put them in the placard for later.

The second trimester arrived yesterday and I am so relieved. I'm finally past the tired, sloggy, ill stage and I have energy! Three months of no energy is a real eye opener. You begin to see how hard it must be to be really ill. I could barely function and I honestly don't know how people hold down jobs during the first trimester. I think I'd be caught sleeping in my car at 4 o'clock.

Seb and I had some time to discuss the amnio and we have more or less decided not to do it based on the very supportive Nuchal Fold results we received at the last ultrasound. It's such a personal decision that I won't get too far into it but I know that we'd just rather not take risks for the sake of information that we may not even take into consideration. We realize that raising a child with Down syndrome is probably an awesome responsibility that we might not be very good at and we also realize that we may even have a child who never makes it to birth at all, or at best survives only a little beyond birth, but these are realities that for now we are willing to face. Given that we are open to this I don't see the point in taking the risk of the amnio. At least those are our conclusions so far. This is a really hard decision to make and maybe I'll end up changing my mind.

Our talk in the car on the two hour drive home from Lyon centered around the realities of raising a handicapped child and how we might handle something like that. Ironically when I got home and turned on the computer The New York Times, my home page, featured two videos yesterday about raising children with Down syndrome and the effects of more and more genetic testing being offered to pregnant women. Oddly enough it was more or less the conversation we'd been having. The videos are interesting in that they show the more human side of the issue by putting a face to the children. Check them out.

The first green light

Well I might have mentioned in that last post (if I hadn't been so high on ultrasounds) that we did the Nuchal Translucency test. The doctor said "Little Sushi has a trés fine nuche" which in medical terms means good things and not *gasp* bad things like I originally thought when he said it. I hate his delivery sometimes. He could have said it enthusiasticaly!! instead of completely deadpan. Anyway it means our risk for Down's Syndrome goes down from 1/85 to 1/528 which is very good news. Anytime that number moves down it's good news.

Now I just have to think about whether or not I should get the amnio in a few weeks. The doctor says the risks of miscarriage with amnio are 1/300 which when taken next to the results of the nuchal test seem obviously higher.

Oh the decisions one must make. I'm not very good at things like this.

Salted or unsalted?

In keeping with my promise--margaritas for everyone! The little sushi was remarkably huge and moving a lot. Dr. Stonehenge surprised me by asking me to follow him down the hallway to a room where they have a brand new ultrasound machine. It's a great setup with a huge flat screen monitor of the sort my dorky brother bought to watch Monday Night Football with his drinking buddies. The sushi was ENORMOUS. Then as if that wasn't enough he flipped a switch and turned on the 4D ultrasound and there she was, all multidimensional and alien-like gazing back at me and Little S like "yo dude what'up?" and we were blown away. Then he flipped ANOTHER switch (lots of switches here...some guy set this up I'm sure) and there was the heartbeat in surround sound. "Whoa!" I haven't been that impressed since I bought my first set of Kef speakers from Steve at Sound Advice in Tampa. Needless to say there were tears and smiles and laughter and nervous gibberish which Dr. Stonehenge just overlooked because he's completely immune to feminine gripes and enthusiasm. I'm sure he's covered this in a seminar at some point: "Even if your woman patient is brimming with tears pretend like you have lots of paperwork to study and say nothing. Clear your throat a lot to indicate that she should probably simmer down and stop making a scene."

Okay so it is true. All the really cool stuff is reserved for the pregnant patients. I mean why couldn't I ever stare at my follicles in 4D? Didn't my May 2006 cyst deserve a better looksee? Okay maybe all this isn't possible with a dildo cam but I would have liked to have at least have been offered a big screen Monday Night Football view of Miss Sushi in her very early days. No we were stranded in the hot, smelly, cramped old ultrasound room across from Stonehenge's office constantly being told that it was too late, too early or that there were complications. It would have been nice to at least be invited into the Executive Elite Club just once, don't you think?

ten and a half

We're back from our trip to Mexico, tired and wrung out from jumping time zones, airport layovers and altitude changes...oh yeah and being pregnant.

The morning sickness went away justlikethat but the fatigue has hit me so hard this pregnancy that I'm having a hard time believing it will ever go away. I have noticed that when the fatigue becomes extreme like it was yesterday after travelling I feel very flu-like, feverish, sweaty and nauseous. When mil asked me what I was making for lunch yesterday two hours after we got in I just stared off blankly. "Whatever you want to make" I said finding it hard to believe she thought I was thinking about her stomach the last few hours of my 27 hours stuck on a boeing 767 beside a snoring violinist. I really wish that woman would travel more. We'd told her three times it had been over 24 hours since we'd last slept! But she just stared off in space and started rambling on about roasted chickens and then said "I suppose I could go up in town to the open air market. Are you going to come and help Christine?" I tried hard not to scream loudly and just shoved fifty euros in her palm and said "I need to sleep" and she was happy as a lark because as usual it was all about having to pay for it and not about whether I was willing to help. She skipped off and I suppose bought a chicken I don't know because I fell asleep and slept for five hours straight.

So other than fatigue everything is okay with the baby (we hope). The belly is slightly larger and I have taken to wearing stretchy skirts and lycra influenced tops. I still haven't had the courage to peek into the old box of maternity clothes yet, because that does take courage and lots of confidence and we aren't over that many hurdles yet although nearly ten and a half weeks is a good start. I will have to brave it soon though because yoga pants are a little too "sahm" for me and then it's just one step away from pony tails and no makeup because "hey why bother."

I have a scan on Thursday and I'll get to see the little sushi to see what s/he's doing and how s/he's growing, hopefully healthy and well. I'm really excited to see her* again but the old heart-in-the-throat feeling started on Monday and will not let up. I hope I don't die from anxiety beforehand. I think I might.

I just hope that little heart is still beating. If it is then a round of maragaritas is on the house!

*the her/him thing gets old so I'm just choosing one for now

Stable

I didn't get the nausea medication yet. The vomit roller coaster is on an upward climb and I pray that the little trend continues. It seems that things have improved slightly.

Next week we leave for a little five day vacation to our new home: one week in central Mexico! I had mixed feelings about traveling during the first tri but those only lasted a few hours as soon as I discovered that my in-laws were willing to come here and watch Little S for the entire time we'd be gone. I love him very much don't get me wrong but diplomatically speaking he's making resting and recovering an impossible venture. When I try to sleep he pounds me in the head with stuffed animals and howls in protest. Somehow my resting makes him feel oddly neglected, imagine that. I actually thought to myself that 15 hours of alone time on an airplane, not being dragged around the house by my index finger might be the best thing yet for this pregnancy's early gestation period. And yes okay I'll miss him but I am seriously behind on sleep and you know what happens when air traffic controllers lose sleep so just imagine the mom of a toddler, the two occupations are very similar navigationally speaking. Honey watch out for the buuuuuus!

And hey hotels? Eating out? Adult time? I'm so already there, faux margarita in my right hand.

Now I just have to sort out the wardrobe dilemma. The diagnosis Mad Cow's Disease has just taken on a whole new meaning. I am a sow. One pair of jeans fit. One stinking pair. It's a little too soon for maternity jeans (ugh hate 'em) and all the fat jeans went out with the first failed IVF because I was pissed off and bitter.

I have no regrets there actually. I hated looking at those jeans.

So I suppose I will have to dig through the skirts and dresses and pray that the weather is what I think it will be

...and then pray that the roller coaster stays suspended mid-climb. Beefy bean and cheese enchiladas and morning sickness just don't sound like a very good combination at all.

Did I actually wish for this?

I hate to keep harping on about it but... I am so, so ill. I had no idea pregnancy could be this grueling. I feel like I'm stranded seasick on a boat and there's no land in sight.

Only seven weeks and already complaining

It was in the nail and screw aisle of Leroy Merlin that I started to feel dizzy yesterday. The cold shivers were coming in waves long before that and I wasn't feeling that fabulous the entire morning. I sat down on a nearby pile of lumber, buried my face in my hands and waited for everything to stop spinning. Seb was worried so we left the store and went to the car. "Miss you don't look well at all." (he really does call me Miss...hence the blog name btw)

In the next store I was feeling a little better so I decided not to sit in the car but go in and help Seb out with Little S. An hour later when we left I was positively green with nausea. Where earlier I'd been shivering, now I felt as if someone had stuck me in a sauna. I was fanning my face the entire way home. By the time we pulled in front of the house at home I ran to the bedroom and dove in to the bed. I woke up two hours later in a hazy fog. It was 8:30 and Seb had already fed and bathed Little S and was tucking him in bed. I felt well enough to eat two things and drink an Indian Tonic (good for grumbly stomachs). And I had the shivers again, go figure.

I don't know if this is normal pregnancy stuff or not. I did get really scared in the stores because just before I miscarried in Carrefour three years ago I got very nauseous and flu like just like that. I feel better today though just very, very tired. I hope this is all just side effects of the pregnancy flu.

With Little S I never got sick except of course during the whole overstimulation episode. I took a few naps here and there but the fatigue was nothing like this. And I never felt ill or had any food aversions. With this pregnancy it seems to me that everything tastes slightly off. Everything tastes metallic and odd. I am really attracted to fruits and especially grapefruits but there isn't much else that holds interest for me.

And I'm enormous. It's only 7 weeks 5 days and you'd think I was swallowing those grapefruits whole. I look like I did at 5 months with Little S. It's frightening to think of how big I might actually get.

Keeping the secret, staying discreet

This is all going very slow. I will be at the eight week mark on Sunday, which is for me the danger zone, or the zone where I have miscarried in the past. I'm looking forward to next week, the rapid passing of the days and the incessant worry that goes with them.

I do have symptoms so I suppose I should be able to relax a little. I'm queasy, not nauseous just queasy, thankfully. I have the sore boob thing, so much so that I have to wear those ugly, unsexy jogging bras already and forgo my matching undie sets. I have the metallic metal taste in my mouth and the "ugh that tastes weird" syndrome and the ultra illuminated smell sensors too. I've got it all.

My biggest symptom though is fatigue. I am so tired I would swear someone put sleeping pills in my water bottles. It's funny how you forget how crippling this tiredness can be. I am seriously running on half speed. It's like an engine has been cut and there are red lights and waring horns blowing but still we have to get through the day and somehow function. The tiredness though is so overwhelming that it serves as my daily check mark that everything is going well.

I talked with my fil this weekend and he of course was making a big fuss about how happy we must be. I kept saying "yes but..." and he kept asking questions like "did I want a girl or a boy" or "did I think I'd have the baby here or in Mexico" and "oh boy we'd have to go out and buy pink furniture now and Little S would be jealous!" question after question which had me glaring at Seb through gritted teeth. I finally said to him "look I can't get excited yet. We only told a few people for a reason." and he said "Oh bon?" which is his way of saying "holy shit don't have a cow about it." And I could tell by that "oh bon?" statement that he's already told all the aunts and uncles and I felt so angry that I said "okay Seb wants to talk to you" and passed off the phone. Maybe I'm being sensitive but personally I have only told my mother and not the rest of my family yet. My mother has said nothing to me about the pregnancy at all since the beta and she knows I will give her little updates and then we'll shut up about it. That's why I told her. I knew she wouldn't go on and on about it. Besides that she was here for the whole beta saga so there really wasn't a choice. She had to be told. Fil did not have to be told. And while we're on the subject fil has got to be stopped before I kill him.

In fact father-in-law's denseness about such matters got me thinking. Some people just don't know. So here's a small guideline I've come up with for how to treat a pregnant friend who had a past miscarriage or a pregnancy loss. It isn't easy to know what to say or how to react:

1. They won't feel comfortable with the pregnancy until after the destination mark (ie the mark where the most progressive miscarriage took place) For me that's about 8 weeks but for my friend A it's 16 weeks. Everyone who has ever lost a pregnancy has their personal "whew" milestone.

2. They won't be jumping up and down for a good long time. Sometimes they may spontaneously talk about the pregnancy though but let them decide. Let them be the ones to suggest baby shopping. They're naturally happy about the pregnancy but afraid to show it because afterwards they may have to relive all those moments.

3. They'll be completely shell shocked before each ultrasound no matter what the stage of the pregnancy.

4. If the person is over 35 then the getting past the 20 week scan is a huge milestone and they may not even accept the pregnancy until that mark.

5. Years of infertility can turn someone into a complete pessimist. It may take several scans before the person goes out and buys any baby items. They may not feel like talking about the pregnancy for quite a while. I was such a pessimist with ds that I didn't buy anything until the fifth month and it wasn't until the ninth month that I set up the room. I never bought a car seat or stroller or anything until he was already here and safe in my arms. It wasn't a conscious decision, but I think in the back of my mind I was horrified at the thought of having to deal with all those things if I lost him. Infertility really fucks with your mind. You become conditioned to expect the worst.

The International Infertility Film Festival

The International Infertility Film Festival was a shout out for short films on the subject of infertility or pregnancy loss. You didn't have to be a professional to submit anything and they even gave you some tips for making videos. It's a fabulous idea and I hope they do it again.

You can see the entries by clicking the link (mine too btw!). Oh and be prepared to laugh out loud and cry a little. Well, a lot actually. Maybe it's just all these raging hormones I'm dealing with right now but some of these were hard to watch.