Wondering

Still wondering how this could be possible and how it could end.

Will I have a baby? Seeing a newborn seriously freaks me out!

Will I not have a baby? Potentially loosing this one breaks my heart.

I just have no idea how to feel about this. Gut instinct is to prepare myself for disappointment. Like so many cycles past, it always ends with nothing.

But this wasn't at the end of a cycle. After all the needles and hoping and hard work that comes with IVF. I'm so used to that disappointment at the end of it. Having to pick myself up and get on with it.

This has been with no effort. Just alot of sex. Which has been done by us before with no result. Never in my thought did I think this could happen. Certain that we were as sterile as a bottle of dettol!

This is a miraculous conception. A fluke, a unexpected surprise! I can't even call it an answer to prayer because I wasn't praying to be pregnant. I was praying that I could accept not having another. And that my darling daughter could be happy without a sibling.

But still, after all these years of trying, almost 10 now, and only having the one amazing child, my gut reaction is to prepare for disappointment.

Could I even begin to let myself be happy or excited. Now that a few people are finding out and seeing their wonder and joy, their obvious shock and amazement, I'm still the pessimist. Still not able to comprehend what the hell is going on right now!

Desperate to know how the little
thing is doing in there. I've seen the gestational sac with my own eyes. Stared at it and couldn't believe it was there though the ultrasound wand was very obviously stuck up me!

Next blood test tomorrow. More paranoia, more waiting, hoping, wondering. I don't know if I can deal with this!

Testing, testing

Got my BT results.

Progesterone up - hooray!
E2 down - boo!
B-hcg is 2464 - I was hoping for over 2k. Good, I think.

Been given another drug to take to support the pregnancy. STILL not sure where this is headed. And another blood test on Sat. Starting to feel like a pincushion again.

Every bit of me wants the little thing in there to get nice and comfy, to keep growing and become real to me.

Have decided to chill in front of the telly and take it easy before I need to pick up my darling daughter.

2nd blood test

Sitting in the waiting room waiting for my next blood test. I've asked if they can take the beta HCG test so I can see what level it's at. The doc didn't order one cause she saw the gestational sac, but paranoid as I am, I want to know how high it's gotten.

Hoping and praying that all is ok. After everything, it is easier for me to be pessimistic. And even now, I'm still spinning out that this could even happen! Last night I was talking to my darling husband about how I could be pregnant and he had to stop me and say.. You ARE pregnant! And that freaked me out yet again.

Funny how one day, I'm perfectly normal, and now, since I know there's something there, I'm allovasudden rife with pregnancy symptoms. I bet if I hadn't peed on a stick, i'd still be feeling normal. But now, since I'm all knowing, i feel everything. Somebody should just wrap me in cotton wool and rest me on a bed for the next 7 weeks!

I find this a most bizarre situation. I have no idea what to think or how to feel. I want to be excited and happy, but i'm so used to disappointment, i'm scared to be optimistic. It's just so unreal.

The 50 shades anomaly

Life has a way of screwing you around. Just when you think you've come to terms, moved forward and are making plans for your future, here comes life. Fucking you up once again!

Yesterday, I was staring open mouthed at two pink lines on a HPT. I had to check the packaging to make sure what I was seeing was right! The strongest two pink lines I have ever seen in my life, staring back at me. Holy shit....

Why did I pee on a stick? Cause my period was marginally late and I just thought what the hell. I'm late all the time. And peeing on a stick is always negative and always gets my period to start. Not to mention how terribly infertile we are. Barren. Inconcievable. Duds in procreation...But this time, two pink lines! Two! I counted them. One... Two... There they both were. It is just so impossible. So unbelievable. I chose to think that the sticks were dodgy, ignore the result and continue with my day. Told hubby who last night went out and got a fancy test. One of those digitized ones that will tell you how far along you are.

After some convincing, I peed on the fancy stick but couldn't bear to look at it and gave it to my darling husband who, in 3 minutes, said to me... It says you're 3+.

I say. What the hell does that mean?

He says. It means you are 5 weeks pregnant. (that's based on my last period)

Which of course means that in all probability, this happened while I was reading the second two books of 50 Shades of Gray and we were doing it nightly in various ways.

He says. Goes to prove we weren't doing it enough.

I says. Doesn't prove anything. This can't be happening...

So back to denial. Happy in denial. Denial is safe and it means I don't need to think about the pros, cons what ifs! I like denial.

So this morning after repeatedly telling hubby that I don't know what to do and would like to remain in denial, he tells me to go and get a blood test so we can see if it's viable.

I end up rocking in to the Raffles hospital unannounced. Expecting a runaround and absolutely no help, I'm relieved when a lovely nurse decides to take pity on me and allows me to wait to see a doc without an appointment. V impresses with this hospital. The doc I'm given is lovely and glamorous and does an ultrasound. Staring back at me is a sack. Too early for a fetal heartbeat but it's there... A yolk sack.

I am struck speechless. Doc says. It's there. Confirmed pregnancy. It's definately there.

I am freaking out! I had put this behind me. I was just starting to get my life in some semblance of order! What is going on!

Doc orders a blood test to check my hormone levels and sends me on my way.

I spend the rest of my time in a haze of unbelieving and yelling out what the hell in my head. And sometimes out loud.

And just when I'm starting to believe that this could be real, I get a call that my test results are in. The hormone levels are low. And I need to rush in to get some drugs to help support the pregnancy. Scheduled another blood test for Thurs.

So here I am. Back at waiting and everyone knows how much I hate waiting!!!

The sweetest thing.

Today my darling daughter has turned 5. My one and only child is halfway to double-digits and it's hard to believe how fast it has gone. I'm sure all mums feel the same about their own children, but quite honestly, i firmly believe that the little angel given to me is the most beautiful and perfect thing in the world. Yes, i do have my moments with her, but a sweeter little person has never existed. I'm not even going to try and be diplomatic. My child is the sweetest and loveliest little human in the entire world.

Yesterday i could hear her pottering around outside while i was trying to wake up. Pitter patter feet and clinking clanking sounds were drifting down my hallway. Finally her angel face appears next to my bed saying, "mummy, come, i've made you breakfast". And sure enough, she had. A ceramic bowl with a piece of bread, buttered with vegemite was waiting for me on the table. Accompanied by a glass of water. It was set on the dining table and opposite was set her own plate with her own breakfast and glass of water waiting for us to sit down together and eat. She is just the loveliest thing.

It's been six months since we ended our journey for number two. Six months to get over it and six months to get on with life. But lately, infertility has been slapping me in the face. Sharp, stingy little slaps. Not a really big bitch slap that would incapacitate me. But small annoying slaps that piss me right off. And there is nothing that i can do. Nothing but grin and bear it, plaster a smile on my face and keep going. It's exhausting.

Boredom comes in stealth...

Well it does for me. First you're keeping busy, busy, busy, filling your time with this and that, trying to think that what you're doing is terribly important to the survival of your family, your friends, humanity in general until finally, you realise you've been sitting on your ass in front of facebook for 10 minutes, repeatedly refreshing, just waiting to see if anyone else is doing anything interesting. Yep, that is when you know, well, when i know that i've been terribly bored all this time and trying to ignore it.

It's not like i haven't been having fun. I have been. Heaps of it! I've been entertaining, being entertained, going hither and nither, drinking coffee, out to lunches, playdates for my child and living it up.

But all the while, in the back of my mind is this nagging feeling, like a tick tock clock saying, you're bored, you know it. you're bored, you know it.

But do i? Do i really know it? I mustn't really, really know if it i'm still flaffing around doing the same things and not really trying very hard to do much else. Not really wanting to do much else. Trying to convince myself that life is good and exciting and so much fun, i haven't the time to find anything else to do.

And there's maybe a shift in my mindset that needs to happen. That being around for my darling daughter is the most important thing i could do. And seeing as she's the only one, perhaps i should put in a teeny bit more effort when it comes to raising her. Perhaps i need to convince myself that it is the most important thing in the world to make sure she has healthy meals and learns to read and is taught to be a lovely little thing, polite and kind and happy with herself. Because it is. It really is the most important thing in the world. I know it in my head. Nothing else matters.

But still, nagging feeling in the back of my head. Maybe i just need to keep doing what i'm doing until it goes away.

Today it hurts. It's come out of the blue and a complete surprise to me. Today it hurts because I was reading my old blog. The one where I got my darling daughter and how I got her and it was a reminder that I will never have another beautiful, precious child bumping around inside me. I'll never marvel at a newborn miracle that is my own. I will never laugh every day at an 18 months antics. Teach another one to talk or be polite or show them how to discover their toes or fingers and nose.

Saw a friends 6 month old and I was floored. All my memories of poopy nappies and sleepless night. So
happy I was to have dodged that bullet again, replaced by amazement at this intently and curiously staring child, taking it all in, trying to make sense of who I was and who she was and her place in the world. But content, held tightly by her mother with the absolute knowledge that the love was there and lasting. I'm not gonna have that again.

Today I'm hurt. And I'm sad and sorry and wishing it were some other way. But it isn't and I'll get over it again soon.