Holiday catch-up

Things have been a little crazy around here. Scott and I take turns looking at each other every couple of days and asking if it is really real. Neither of us can believe that we actually managed to get pregnant, much less on our own, while on our dream vacation. Sure, I miscarried weeks before and that sucked (its suckiness hits me sometimes when I see women who are as pregnant as I'd be if that one little thing had stuck around). For all we knew it would take us another 18 months or IVF to get pregnant for good. How fabulously wrong we were -- for the better.

So around 10 weeks I started feeling better. It didn't last long! I had a great week though -- DH and I did some shopping and mailed off our Xmas cards and the gifts to his families. I made a great superman cape for our nephew. After that, I lost a lot of steam, seemingly overnight!

My family holidays have a special craziness. My older brother's bday is the 20th, my younger brother's bday is the 22nd and of course mine is the 27th. We were raised in a very Catholic household and Christmas was a special time all its own. But our family took it (and still takes it) to a whole other level. Growing up, we only had cake in December. And we fought to have separate parties. These days we all just hope to get calls on our big day and are happy to have a little private peace to our selves.

On the 22nd, we met up with my brother and his wife for a little hockey game. My SIL ordered my brother a box of chicago love -- chicago dogs and pizza and cheesecake. It was crazy -- everything (mustard and all!) was packed on dry ice. We all pigged out before the game and Joe and I were totally sick through the first two periods. I ended up throwing up at an intermission and then felt better. But a word to the wise -- chicago dogs are NOT good on the way back out. Those peppers burn! LOL. Our team lost but we had fun anyway -- we were also celebrating their new pregnancy. :) They have a 17 month old daughter and really wanted another child for a long time and were really worried about whether it would happen, given my brother's poor health this year and his scary prognosis. And we are all thrilled that we'll get to share this new thing together. My SIL and I are the only girls in our families and have been close since she started dating my brother 10 years ago, despite a 7 year age gap. They are so supportive of us and I'm so glad we are in a place were we can be supportive right back.

On the eve of Xmas eve I did a little more sewing and then took a nap before dinner with my dad and his wife. It was the only time we could find for us to get together and it turned out to be a really nice chance to just sit and talk with them instead of trying to talk in between seeing tons of other relatives. My dad already has 4 grandchildren but is very cautiously excited for us. He's more cautious than I would have expected considering that he's a big optimist, but I think seeing us so sad and scared for so long had an effect on him too and he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. He prays for us and in our darkest hours was a real comfort to both of us with his trademark phrase -- God is good, God is great.

After dinner with my dad, I stayed up late sewing more capes for two more adorable nephews -- this time personalized with their own super hero emblems. :)

Christmas eve I was exhausted and a little stressed. We had a lot to do to get the house ready for a party for 10 adults and 4 kids. The living room had to be totally rearranged and I wasn't in the best shape to help. Poor hubby! We stayed up until 1:30 sewing and wrapping gifts and getting set up.

We slept in Christmas morning and had TJ's chocolate croissants for breakfast while opening our stockings. We decided months ago not to exchange gifts and it sounded great in theory but was tough to do in practice so we compromised and exchanged stocking stuffers. It was fun to think of sweet little things he would like. :) It turned out great and we both felt a nice sense of abundance even without any big gifts.

I made the mistake of making a regular weekend breakfast after that. So not a good idea. I spent the hours I was supposed to be getting food ready throwing up in our kitchen sink. Yuck! My lightbulb moment hit just as I was supposed to get dressed -- too much food, even two bites too many, means throwing up. So STOP eating!

The family thing was fun. My mom and G'ma came and brought my uncle and his longtime gf. They'd never been to our house so it was a treat to show off all our hard work. My brother's both were here with their four kids (six weeks to almost 3). The oldest napped through half the party and had to be bribed with presents to wake up. ;) The middle two are 4 months apart and are funny without even talking. They would walk up to the buffet, and reach up over their head to grab whatever food might be in reach. They ate everything they could get their little tiny hands on and left powdered sugar hand prints all over everything as proof! Baby Ali, just six weeks old, was a darling in her Christmas dress and sweetly slept through the party too. Opening gifts was a sight to behold -- paper everywhere -- but everyone seemed happy with their gifts. We even got one for Baby K -- a pair of tiny pink shoes with lions on them. We have no idea if it will be a girl, but we love lions and pink lions things are rare so my SIL snapped them up.

After everyone left we checked our mail and I was surprised to discover that I'd gotten my annual benefits letter from work and it included news of a raise, a promotion and a bonus. What a great gift! I work for a non-profit and never in a million years expected a bonus. I'm really thankful though as it will come in handy for all the things we need now that we didn't think we'd ever have to buy.

After everything calmed down we called to check in with the ILs and got another surprise. My SIL, the one with the 2 year old who came to visit in October, is also pg and is due 3 days before me. I wish I could say I handled the news well but I didn't. Instead of a feeling my own pregnant zen, I was a bitter pissed of IFer again. It really freaking stung. She's 40 and got pg both times without much effort. That alone kicks my ass. I know it shouldn't. But it does. I started trying when I was 31. And it took us 15 cycles to get pg, only to miscarry. Then 18 more to get pg again, only to miscarry badly. Sure I'm pg now but damn did that road suck. And hearing the ease with which other's conceive still kicks my ass apparently. I'm also a bit bitter than our child will have to share so much from the very beginning. SIL lives near the ILs, several hundred miles away from us. I can't imagine that they'll make the trip to see our little one when their daughter has one a few minutes away.

I spent the days after Christmas in a haze. I napped a lot and dreamed about our baby. At twelve weeks it really started to feel real. As the year drew to a close and a new year started, a year when we'd finally be parents, all I could think about was: This new year is the year we get our dream come true. Don't get me wrong, I still have moments, and heck days, when I get terrified that things will all go fantastically wrong, a larger part of me believes that this is finally our turn for things to go fantastically right. And I want to enjoy it, for all its wonder.

And my last bit of update: I had my 12 week check up today. All bloodwork and tests were fine, I lost a pound (thanks to a lingering cold) which is fine since I am overweight to begin with, bp is fine, all looks good. And we finally got to hear the hb, at a wondrous 150 bpm. Doc is happy with my progress and shares our wonder at our happy situation. She confirmed that at this point as long as all screening comes back fine, we are on cruise control for now, with good things on the horizon. NT scan is Monday and we'll get our results then.

I hope the new year brings peace and good things to all my fellow stirrup queens.

I miss peanut butter

I miss peanut butter. So very much. I fanaticize about it every day. It is a huge part of my normal diet. For almost four years breakfast has been 2 tbs reduced fat creamy peanut butter on two slices of reduced calorie wheat toast (Oro.wheat makes the best kind – loads of fiber but low in calorie and still edible). Until I got pg. Dh is allergic to peanuts. Everything I’ve read says that I should avoid peanuts and peanut products until after I’m through bf’ing lest my child have a severe allergy to peanuts. Since peanut allergies are a tough thing for kids (especially when other kids want pb&j for lunch at school), I figured it was a good idea to do what I can to minimize the impact. Doesn’t mean I don’t think about it all the time.

***
I always dreaded hearing other people’s happy pregnancy news when we were in the throws of our IF. Hated it. Even from people I liked. I hated it even more when the news took me by surprise. Having been on the receiving end so many times, I hoped I wouldn’t ever do that to a fellow stirrup queen. But I did.

Last week DH and I were going about our usual Sunday morning routine – fantastic farmer’s market, coffee and pasties, Trader Joe’s, then our local supermarket for stuff not at the other two. We love our little ritual and it’s a nice quiet time for us. I was reaching for broccoli when I heard a female voice ask me if I took classes at our local giant HMO. I turned and realized the woman talking to me was the same person who cried all through our last support group meeting. (It was her first, and its always a huge step for people. Everyone cries through their first group meeting.) She asked me how we liked Paris as I mentally tried to figure out a way to get out of giving her an update. I wasn’t showing so there was no way she’s know. Dh and I exchanged desperate glances and I realized he was going to spill. And then she asked, “How are things? Are things going wel?” More weird glances exchanged between us. Then, “Good news, huh?” And we confessed. And I saw that look of whycan’titbeme cross her face. And I felt like a terrible person for ruining her morning. Why couldn’t we keep our mouths shut?

***
Some days I absolutely don’t feel pregnant. Unless frequent waves of nausea and dry heaving, and falling asleep at 8 pm count as feeling pregnant. For a while in week 8, I felt tugging and pulling and stretching all day long and it has mostly stopped. I wish it hadn’t no matter how painful it was. Sometimes I forget I’m pregnant. Until I catch sight of my boobs and then I can’t help but remember.**

I went shopping with my mom, SIL and 18 month old niece last weekend. It was supposed to be Christmas shopping but it ended up being a lot of shopping for me. My SIL was great – giving me tips on what to get and what to avoid in terms of early maternity wear (one pair of jeans and two tops for work), and my mom was thrilled to bits. We found a few cute baby things with our favorite animal on it and couldn’t resist. Despite lingering, sometimes all consuming fear, I let myself enjoy those few hours of talking and planning and joy about baby.

For years, as my SILs had 4 kids between them, I felt left out of their little circle. Their mommy circle. I so desperately wanted to join and couldn’t. I worried that it would cause some permanent rift, that my dear SIL would never forgive my distance. But they both did and are more than happy to welcome me to their little club.

***
I am woefully behind on Christmas prep. I’ve had cards for two months and have yet to even unwrap them. I have had the fabric for the gifts for the nieces and nephews since August and haven’t touched it. We finally decorated our tree on Sunday but I have yet to set out my other fun decorations.

We are supposed to host the festivities at our house this year. Host. I’m an idiot. I don’t have a menu or a shopping list and I have no idea when I’ll feel like doing it.

***
Hubby is having a tough time at work. His employer, a small biz, laid off some folks two weeks ago and let him know that the decision to keep him was a tough call. Ouch. He’s understandably worried and scared and it is sapping some of his joy about the pregnancy. Sometimes I want to pamper him and make it all better. I want his joy about this pregnancy to override his fear but it just doesn’t all the time.

***

I’m worried about neural tube defects (NTD). Folic acid can prevent most NTDs. Great. I wasn’t taking them the few weeks before we conceived. I was ordered to stop taking folic acid on Sept. 13 so that the methotrexate I received would work properly to bring an expedited end to the failing pregnancy that would not end on its own. Folic acid interferes with methotrexate. I stopped taking my pnvs and supplements and didn’t start again until we were in Paris in mid-October. And I wasn’t consistent until I got the bfp. I feel guilty that I didn’t do everything I could to prevent them. I took those damn pnvs every day for more than three years except for that small break and that is the break that could have made a difference.

I need to decide in the next few days what to do about screening. At our 8 week appointment NP recommended the NT Scan but also gave us paperwork for the AFP test. The NT scan does not test for NTDs. The AFP does. I know I need to screen for the trisomy’s but that doesn’t seem like enough. I’m worried that if we do both that the results will conflict and we’ll need to do CVS or amnio, which I’d rather avoid. Any insights I should think about?

***
I’ll be 10 weeks even tomorrow. Neither of us can believe it.

**Please tell me what the heck to do about the bra situation. I was a 36FF before I got pg. Bras are now tight and there is spillage. Do I get regular, but larger sized bras now? Do I wait? When to get maternity bras? Are they more comfy? Please help! And where does one find them in size 36 GIANT?

She’s not evil

I read through the comments to my last post and I feel a little guilty. My SIL is not evil. She’s not heartless. In fact, I am deeply grateful for her. She saved my brother from a really bad relationship, and gave him back to us. She convinced him to have children when he thought he wanted none. And their two boys light up our lives, and the lives of my parents.

The issue really is that their lives took one path while ours took another. While they struggled some to conceive their first, the second and now third were conceived without any planning whatsoever. And it has been a struggle for them to manage the expense of two children under two, much less three under three. I know it hasn’t been easy and I wish it were. But their children are gorgeous and healthy and smart and loving so it is hard to have sympathy for them.

We have had a set back for each of their steps forward. Every day that passes, the chasm between us grows. They try to bridge the gap. I know they do. And we try too. But their source of joy adds a little lemon in our wounds, and our wounds spoil a little of their sweetness. It’s a two way street and they’ve tried to let me take the lead. They learned not to share details of the pregnancy unless I ask. They curtail conversations about decorating and birth plans when I’m around. And it appears they kept all talk of this last minute shower to themselves until it was time to send the invitations. They did what they thought was best given what they knew of me, which includes the knowledge that I hate being left out of family things. They weighed whether I would be more hurt to get an invite to a shower for a baby I know is coming, or to learn of a family get together weeks after the fact. I think they made the right choice, I just really wish the news had been delivered differently.

In all honesty, if I hadn't gotten pregnant last month, I would probably have enjoyed the shower. And I certianly would have loved it if I were still pregnant. I already had plans to make little tiny pink things with lady bugs for the new arrival. The pile of material and buttons just sits there though, waiting for me to get over my grief enough to touch it without tears.

baby shower invitation

I started and didn’t finish a post last week about the tidal wave of grief that swept over me last weekend. I wrote a lot about the tears that wouldn’t stop. But I couldn’t get the words right so I set it aside.

I’ll have to write about it some other time because I must must must get out the crap that happened today. I had a great day at work. I got a lot done and stayed really busy (which is unusual for me at this time of year). I felt productive and excited about work. I got home and was exited to spend the evening with my mom sewing my clothes for Paris. Good things all around considering how weepy I was last week.

And then my husband innocently mentioned that I got a baby shower invite in the mail today for my SIL. I stewed over it for a few minutes before going to look at it. I decided that before I got really mad at her for sending me a shower invite for her third kid when she knows I’m still miscarrying, that I should make sure it wasn’t sent by her clueless mother. One look and I was full of rage. It was in her handwriting. And the invite was all about celebrating her soon to arrive baby girl. The party is taking place while we will be in Paris.

What kind of motherfucking jackass sends a shower invite with no warning to someone who has just had an absolutely heartbreaking miscarriage? Who does that?

Our struggle is not a secret from anyone. I shared because I wanted their support. I thought honesty would keep people from unintentionally doing or saying something hurtful. It has, on the whole, been the right thing for us. But it also means that when someone does something hurtful, my hurt is deeper because I sense that they hurt me on purpose. That they knew I would feel badly and they did it anyway.

And that is exactly how I felt when I saw the invitation in her handwriting.

They know every single detail of what has happened to us. Their family building has made my infertility more painful than it otherwise would have been and they know it. They found out they were pg with #2 the week we started infertility treatment. They were open with us about their surprise and angst (they had a 6 month old when they got pg and were already four months along when they found out). She gave birth to him 5 weeks after I had my first miscarriage. The day she gave birth was one of the worst days of my life. I contemplated ending my life that day and in the days after that. I thought I was losing my mind. It took me a year of individual and group therapy, plus a mind body class, to get myself on level ground again.

When my brother told my husband while I was out of town on a business trip this spring that they were pregnant again, I refused to speak to him for 6 weeks. I could not think of anything to say to him that was didn’t include at least a dozen f-words and I decided at the time that just wasn’t worth doing.

Tonight I finally found the words. I could not let them have that control over me. I would have festered in my hurt and anger for weeks. I might never have forgiven them for being so thoughtless. I couldn’t let them ruin my once in a lifetime trip in two weeks. So I called. I told them I got the invite and that I was hurt. I cried for all the hurt that has been bottled up for months. I begged for more care and understanding. All I want is for my brother to call me and tell me things like this himself. Don’t pass it on to my husband. Don’t send it to me in the mail. Pick up the god damned phone (after work please) and tell me yourself. And say it with kindness. And compassion. And love. And know that I love you back but that I’m in a pit of despair right now and might not do well in showing it.

It felt good. He was surprisingly open to listening to me. He apologized for unintentionally hurting me. He never would have guessed what I wanted him to do if I hadn’t told him. I feel closer to him now than I did before and feel like I got reassurance about how much I mean to him and how much he cares about me. Even if I had to beg for it.

I'm thankful the shower is on a day when I absolutely can not attend. It saves me from a lot of agnst about whether or not I should attend. I can't go and I don't have to feel guilty about it.

Tomorrow should be my final beta for the pregnancy. Last week's number was 45 (finally below 50 was considered good news) so I'm hopeful I will be below five and officially no longer pregnant. I am praying that my cycle is kind and goes back to normal quickly. I just want to feel human again.

Better

Yesterday was better. My brother’s doctor’s office finally sent the necessary info to the insurance company. Wooohooo! Progress. I only had to make two dozen calls to get it moving.

Last night, DH and I rode our bikes to the free music in the park. The ride was nice right up until the end when his bike stalled out. LOL. It just refused to go. We decided to enjoy the evening anyway and settled in with our pizza and beer for the free show. The music was great. The people watching was great. The weather was perfect. It was quite a lovely evening.

We decided to take the lightrail home, get the car and come back for our bikes. Only problem was we missed the train and the next one wasn’t for another 30 minutes. And it was a 30 minute train ride to get the 2 miles to our house (tons of stops!). So we got a cab, got the car and went to get the bikes. We treated ourselves to our favorite ice cream on the way home and it was the perfect end to a really good night.

I love Friday’s. Friday is my Star.bucks day. My favorite barista made my grande triple vanilla latte with extra foamy organic milk with just the right balance of foam and steamed milk. Yumm.

I hope I can find some time to sew this weekend. Summer is coming to a fast end and I have three more summer shirts I want to make. I need to get cracking if I have any hope of finishing them and wearing them before it gets too cold.

Grrr

Today was rough. So many frustrations to pack into one day. A car has been parked in the red zone and blocking our driveway since Monday night. I've called the police and they haven't come to tow it. It greeted me as I left this morning. I called the police again from work and they wouldn't even promise to tow it!

Then I had recurring technology issues at work. It's been going on for two solid months with no resolution.

My brother, who has been really sick (he hasn't been able to work in a month) didn't get the treatment he needed at his doctor's appointment today. His doctor's office is jerking him and us around and I can't figure out why.

Grrrr. Grrrr. Double Grrrrr.

And the darn car was blocking the driveway when I got home today.

I was about to call the police again when one happened to show up! Yeah! Turns out the car was stolen and dumped there. Boooo. A bigger issue is the shooting of two people (one of whom died) down the street on Sunday night. Our city is purported to be safe despite its size (a million people) but a murder on the block certainly doesn't feel safe.

The day was redeemed by a trip to the gym, a sunflower that FINALLY bloomed (it's over ten feet tall already and hadn't bloomed), and a nice light dinner on the deck with my hubby, followed by fireworks from the nearby county fair.

Hope tomorrow has more ups and a little less frustration.