small update

I finally did call the doctor, even though I haven't seen any spotting at all since 9 am. The nurse was WONDERFUL - I think I'm going to love this practice. She was pretty reassuring, and moved my ultrasound from Friday at 8:30 a.m. to tomorrow afternoon. I'm feeling OK about this. It was really SO little staining - the only reason I even noticed is because of course I've been monitoring it like a hawk.

nervous

I just got to work and found the tiniest bit of pinkish-brown spotting. Really just a tiny tiny bit. But I'm terrified. I'm supposed to have an ultrasound in two days, but now I don't know if I should call earlier.

Update: It's totally stopped. Honestly, I don't know if I would even call it spotting - I hate to be graphic, but it was just a tiny bit of pinkish/brown CM on the paper. That's all. There hasn't been any more, even after I walked a few blocks to a meeting and then back.

I mostly feel better. If it comes back, I'll call the doctor. If not, I can wait until the ultrasound.

Thankful

We're back from Thanksgiving and I feel like I need a vacation from my vacation. We took Wednesday off and got up at 4 am (no, not a typo) so that we could leave at 5 and beat the Thanksgiving traffic. Which we did, but, 4 am. I feel like I'm going to complain a lot in this post, but it wasn't an awful weekend, just hard and sad in a lot of ways.

On Wednesday evening as we sat around after dinner, the idea of playing a board game came up. My mother mentioned that we kept the board games in the closet under the basement stairs, so Andy offered to go look for one. I noticed that he was gone kind of a long time, but I figured he'd just been looking through all the books and games we keep down there. But later that evening, after everyone had gone to bed, he told me that he'd found the bag of Joseph's things from the hospital. My mother had hidden it in that closet and then forgotten about it. (I later spoke to her about it and she told me that she'd realized it was there after Andy went downstairs, and then she wasn't sure what to do, so she just sat there frozen until he came back up.)

Andy was OK when I talked to him, but a little bit shaken. Neither of us had looked in the bag at all since the nurses gave it to us in the hospital. It has the pictures they took of him, the little blanket and cap he was wrapped in, a lock of hair, his hospital bracelet, things like that. I asked if Andy thought I should go look at it too, but I was relieved when he said we should wait. I don't think I'm ready for that yet. Someday, but not yet.

The next day was Thanksgiving, which turned out to be a bit of a letdown - it was at my dad's house, and it was their year to celebrate with his wife's enormous family. There were about 50 people, and aside from the few I was related to, I knew none of them. I like family dinners where you can sit around the table and have a conversation, but there were just way too many people for that. I got the feeling that no one would have noticed if we hadn't shown up. However, it was great to see my brother and sister-in-law and my stepbrothers and their girlfriends/fiancees. My stepbrother Rob and his fiancee Danielle brought their 3-month-old, Alexandra, who had adorably fat cheeks and is one of the most cheerful infants I've ever seen. That cheered me up a lot.

On Saturday, Rob and Danielle held Alexandra's christening - they figured since everyone would be home, it would be a good time. My brother was the godfather, and he did great holding her and doing his part. I can't believe he's going to be a father; I still picture him as my baby brother.

I didn't expect this at all, but while we were at the church watching the ceremony, all of a sudden a wave of sadness hit me. I generally do fine with babies now - I can hold them and play with them and I don't get sad - but watching the baptism, it hit me: I wonder what Joseph's baptism was like. I wasn't there. I was still in bed, doped up on morphine, and Andy was with me. All I knew was that my mother had held him. I teared up, and my cousin, next to me, noticed and gave me a tissue. And then I was OK, I thought. When the ceremony was over, everyone was milling around the church and Andy came over and asked if I was OK. And suddenly, I wasn't. He had to take me outside, and I cried more than I've cried in months. I just kept picturing the ceremony we had just watched, only with a dead baby. My dead baby.

Andy told me that they used a little seashell to pour the holy water over Joseph's head, and that he'd seen it in the bag of things. I know they couldn't wait to do the ceremony because they needed his body to do the tests, but sometimes I wonder, should we have been there? Would it have been too much for me? How did my mother stand it? How would I have stood it?

The rest of the afternoon turned out to be very nice, though. My cousins were there and there were babies and children absolutely everywhere. It was kind of nice to have a secret - only our parents and siblings/stepsiblings know about the Heating Pad. I think otherwise it would have been very hard to get through yesterday at all.

The morning sickness has kicked in with a vengeance today. I am actually relieved, though. Four more days until we get a look inside there. I hope everything's OK.

Preganoia will destroy ya

I felt sick early this week. I don't seem to feel as sick now. Is it going away because my levels are going down? Is my heartburn getting better or worse? Does my left nipple hurt more than my right? Should I have asked for serial betas this time? Hmm, maybe the heartburn is less because I drank more water today. Am I tired because I didn't get enough sleep or because I'm pregnant? Am I less tired than I was yesterday?

God help me. Two more weeks until the first ultrasound.

the worst is over

I just realized that life for us is going incredibly well all of a sudden. We haven't had this many good things happen to us all at once...well...EVER.

Me: Work is suddenly much more challenging and interesting; was offered a promotion (which I hope goes through...it's still in the works, and I don't know exactly what's going on); got pregnant and so far it's going OK; found a great doctor.

Mr. NK: He plays the bass guitar in addition to his day job. He's been studying very hard for a long time, but he hasn't played out in years. But this weekend he has three gigs as a session bassist with two different bands, one of them at The Middle East as part of the Emergenza Music Fest. He also found out last week that the patent his company applied for a few years ago for a process he helped develop went through. So now there's a patent out there that says "[Mr. NK] et al" on it. How cool is that?

It feels very hopeful. Maybe it's a sign that the year from hell is ending. Maybe it's a sign that little Heating Pad (who I will henceforth call HP because I just feel way too dorky referring to my embryo as Heating Pad) is going to be born and we'll actually get to take him/her home.

Hope

I loved the new doctor - we'll call her Dr. R. I was so nervous this morning waiting to meet her, but Mr. NK and I were both very impressed. She had all my records ahead of time, so she asked us a few questions about our experience and what happened to Joseph. She said that based on my records, the only thing she might worry about is that something was wrong with my placenta - Dr. S. had ordered tests to be run on it, but apparently it was discarded in the time between Joseph's birth and death, so we will never know. Since Joseph was a normal birthweight, however, Dr. R. says that most likely the placenta was not the culprit, and she's leaning toward the same "freak accident" diagnosis I got from the neonatologist.

Based on all of that, she said she didn't recommend that we do much differently in this pregnancy. I will see her and be treated as a high-risk patient (in terms of having more monitoring, etc.) but mainly only for my peace of mind. She gave me the numbers for not only her and her nurse, but also the triage nurses, and told me to call any time I had a question, no matter how minor - no worries about bothering them or about having too many questions. I will have nonstress tests beginning in the third trimester and a scheduled c-section around the 39 week mark.

I was honest about the date of LMP, but told her that I am certain I ovulated late. She made a note of it, but added that she generally felt charting was unreliable. I said, "Would it help if I told you that that week was the only week it would have been physically possible?" (hey, it's been a stressful month at work for both of us.) She laughed at that and noted it on my chart, but she still wants me to have a dating ultrasound on December 2, which is fine with me. My first real prenatal appointment is December 20.

I left her office with a really good feeling about everything. I know that if this pregnancy lasts, it's not going to be easy, but I think having Dr. R. on my team is going to help immensely.

New doc tomorrow

In the morning we have a consultation with the high-risk OB someone recommended. I made the appointment weeks ago, so it's just an added bonus to be able to tell her I'm actually pregnant. Mostly we just wanted to get a feel for whether we liked her and the practice - she's also got copies of all my records and Joseph's autopsy report, so we'll ask for her opinion on what happened and see how she would manage this pregnancy in light of that.

As of this morning I have morning sickness already. Isn't it too early for this? This was the real deal, too - not just gagginess but oh-God-must-eat-now-or-I'll-puke-iness. Last time it didn't hit until 6 weeks or so.

No bleeding (not that I've stopped checking/half expecting there to be). In fact, I feel fine - well, I feel pregnant. Much more so than I did last month with the chemical. This feels like it felt with Joseph, which is reassuring in a way because after all, my entire pregnancy with him was normal and easy, right up until the end.

I think this one's nom de womb is "Heating Pad." Kind of a long story - Mr. NK had minor surgery a month or so ago and was recovering at home in a fair amount of pain. The Percoset was only doing so much until we figured out that if he laid on the heating pad, the pain magically went away. His subsequent Percoset-hazy exclamation of "I'm going to name our next child Heating Pad" kind of stuck as an inside joke. So, Heating Pad it is.

We used to call Joseph "the Papoose."

I don't know if I'm happy or sad. Both, really.

I swear I am not just trying to redeem myself, but...

...speaking of SIL, her 20-week ultrasound was today. I called my brother to see how it went (I heard later from my mom that he was surprised and touched that I called, but I honestly didn't even think about it - I didn't do it out of a sense of obligation or anything) and the babe has two of everything there's supposed to be two of, ten of everything there's supposed to be ten of, and so on. They didn't find out the sex.

I may sort of wish my SIL had not gotten pregnant when she did, but since she is, I am happy for them.

Gee, thanks.

I came to work today to find lots of encouragement in my inbox (comments to this blog get sent there), as well as this little gem:

"It seems like you would be happy if SIL lost the baby? Would it make you feel better. I never understand this way of thinking. Best of luck."

Jesus H. Christ. Have I EVER said I wanted my SIL to lose her baby? This is my brother we're talking about. My niece or nephew. It hurt to hear about their pregnancy, but my brother is still one of my closest friends in the world.

Have you lost a baby yourself, "Anonymous"? If you have, I'd think you'd understand how hard it can be to find out about a loved one's pregnancy so soon after losing your own. I'm not proud of every thought that has crossed my mind since I found out. But I have NEVER, not once, wished for them to go through anything remotely like what I did. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.

So you know what? Fuck you.

I have a much better feeling about this one.

It's only been a few hours, but Mr. NK and I usually talk all day at work (thank you, Google Talk) and so far we haven't really talked about this morning. He knew that I wasn't hopeful because of yesterday's temp drop, but he has always been the one who says to wait until it's over before I call it over. So I told him that if my temp was up again in the morning, I'd take a test.

He was still sleeping when I got up and peed on a stick. But when he woke up and saw me coming back from the bathroom, he must have known right away.

"Is it back up?" he said.

"Yeah...and I took a test and I'm pregnant."

He hugged me and told me not to get too crazed over it just yet...to see what happened...which is good advice (he wasn't trying to rain on my parade, just cautioning me not to start the parade yet, which I'm not). And then he got up and took a shower and I took a shower and we went all the way into the city on the train together without saying another word about it.

Later on I messaged him that I still coudn't believe it. He said he'd known all along, and that the only thing that bothered him was the way I do the "I think I am...it looks good...no, wait, I can't be. It looks bad. No, wait, maybe I am...no, I can't be. Oh wait, I took a test, and I am." I did the exact same thing last month with the chemical. I even did it when I was pregnant with Joseph.

I bought a cheapo test on the way to work because the line was so faint on the one I took this morning. Nice fat dark line on this one. And no bleeding.

Please, let this be the one we take home.

This is almost embarrassing.

My temp dropped some yesterday, so I assumed it would drop the rest of the way this morning (12 DPO) and I'd wake up with my period.

You can imagine my surprise as I stared at the thermometer this morning - 98.4. Nearly a degree higher than yesterday. I had some restless sleep, but not THAT restless.

So I caved and took a test.

It's positive. Faintly positive, but positive.

I guess someone's a bit behind on his paperwork.

I got home last night to find a message from Dr. S. on my voicemail. He was calling to say he'd seen a confirmation of pregnancy in my file, and to congratulate me and to see how I was handling it.

I guess he didn't see the lab work from the other betas that showed it was just a chemical pregnancy. That was, what, six weeks ago?

I woke up to a pretty big temp drop this morning, too. No period yet and it's still above the coverline, but I had a raging case of PMS last night. Remember how I said I couldn't remember what it felt like? I think my body was trying to remind me.

I'm hanging in there. My breasts still hurt, heartburn seems to be gone, but I have a generally achy feeling that could be anything.

You see, it's been so long since I had a real period that I don't even remember what it feels like! I only started paying attention to how I felt during the luteal phase when we were trying for Joseph, and we got pregnant on the first try. Then my first post-partum luteal phase was so short that I don't think I had time for PMS. Then I had the chemical, and so here I am.

My temp is still up, though. Had a tiny tiny tiny bit of brown spotting this morning, and nothing since.

I did cave and get some tests from Walmart. They're under the bathroom sink and I have not used them.

I'm thinking I have to stop temping this cycle. I can't seem to sleep long enough. I started out this cycle figuring I would temp at 6 am. The first few days, I woke up between 5:30 and 5:45, so I started setting my alarm for that time to make the temp time consistent. Which led to my waking up every day between 5:15 and 5:30, so I changed the temp time to 5:25. Then I had a long stretch, which included the last few days before ovulation and the first half of the 2ww, where I was waking up every day at 4:40, so I made THAT my temp time. And of course, now I'm waking up every morning at 3 am. The temps are going to be totally thrown off.

Next cycle, if there is one, I'm not bothering with the fucking thermometer. I'm using the monitor. (link for lorem, who asked). It's got to be better than mindfucking the darkness of OPK lines and waking up repeatedly at 3 am, right?

I don't know if I'm going to make it to 16 DPO. This morning, my temp jumped up nearly half a degree to the highest temp I've ever gotten. Plus, as of last night I have heartburn whenever I eat - and I never get heartburn, except before I found out I was pregnant with Joseph and the chemical (it lasted my whole pregnancy with Joseph).

A little while ago, as though a switch had been flipped or something, my nipples started to hurt.

My body had better not be fucking with me. I didn't want to get my hopes up. But it's really, really hard.

Testing

Because lorem ipsum asked...I am trying to hold out much longer to test this cycle. I tested at 11 DPO last month, although I would not have done that if I hadn't been getting the conflicting signs (bleeding, but high temps and sore breasts).

This month, my appointment with the new high-risk doctor is on November 15, which is 18 DPO. At first I thought I would wait until that morning to test, so that I could go in and let her know if it came up positive. Then I thought about it, and I don't know if I want to test on a weekday. I know myself well enough to know that I won't be able to do a thing that whole day if that test comes up positive.

So now I'm thinking that if my period hasn't come, I will test that Sunday before, which is 16 DPO. Longer than I've ever waited before - and I know for a fact that I don't have a 16-day LP, so that should be late enough to be reliable.

I have no tests in the house, so I may actually be able to stick to this.

Random things

So here I am waiting to see if I'm pregnant or not. I usually don't have a feeling about these things one way or the other; I try not to, anyway, so that I don't get my hopes up. I had a temp drop today that could be bad, could be nothing. It's way too early for my period to start, so I hope it's nothing.

My chart shows that I had ovulated on Friday, and we timed things well. Early on Saturday morning, just after Andy got up, he said he'd had a strong premonition - not really a dream, more of a waking dream. He said that it was almost like he'd heard a voice in his ear, telling him that we would have a son and that his name would be Elliot (which was a name we had seriously considered when I was pregnant with Joseph).

My in-laws were here this weekend, and that Saturday night as we were all sitting around the kitchen table, Andy went to get a glass of wine and offered me one. Then he remembered and said, "Oh, never mind," and grinned. When my mother-in-law raised her eyebrow at me, I said, "No, I'm not pregnant, I'm just waiting to find out if I am." Without missing a beat, she smiled and said, "I think you are. In fact, I was going to ask you earlier today if you were, because I had a feeling about it."

My MIL never says things like this. She's a very quiet woman and if she doesn't feel that she can say anything important, she doesn't say anything at all (sometimes I wish my own mother was more like this).

I probably sound like a loon, because I don't believe in things like this (although I had a weird series of feelings/hunches that came true this summer, too). It was just surprising in light of Andy's hunch. Maybe looniness just runs in his family. As I said, I myself am not particularly hopeful for this cycle, so I won't be crushed if my period comes.

I had an interesting discussion with my mother last night. I was asking about my SIL's pregnancy, and my mother said, "I feel bad about this, but I can't seem to work up that much excitement for them." I asked her if it was because my experience has shown that, until you have a live baby in your arms, there's not a whole lot to be excited about (depressing, but true). She said that it wasn't that so much, but more the fact that she kept thinking about how sucky their timing was. "I just can't keep myself from feeling that it was kind of selfish of them," she said.

When I first found out about SIL's pregnancy and realized when she was due, my first thought was that they had practically run right out from my hospital room and gotten knocked up. When I expressed that sentiment to my mother at the time, she said that she'd had the impression that they'd been trying for a little while, and had just happened to conceive soon after my loss. However, I found out recently that that wasn't the case - my brother told me that they got pregnant on their first try. Which means that their first try WAS only a few weeks after Joseph's death.

When he told me this, I was pregnant myself, so it didn't bother me as much as it might have. Now I've lost that pregnancy and the more I think about it, the more I find myself reverting to the hurt I felt when I first found out. They're 26 years old - they'd been married less than 9 months when they got pregnant. I don't expect the whole world to plan their lives around my loss, but would it have killed them to wait a few months?

My mother told me that she has all the same thoughts. Not only that, but she says whenever she shares my brother and SIL's news with anyone, their first reaction is not excitement, but, "Oh....wow, that's bad timing, huh? How does NervousKitty feel about that?"

The small, mean part of me has a moment of guilty pleasure thinking about that. If they had to run right out and get knocked up, at least they don't get to have everyone gushing over them.