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.