The School of Hard Knocked-Up

As always, please skip this post if you are feeling sensitive about pregnancy.  There is plenty of other stuff to read around here.

Today: the news in numbers.

5w5d

That’s where I’m at today, if I calculated everything correctly.

I started thyroid meds a few days ago to make up for the fact that either pregnancy or the combination of estrogen patches + progesterone suppositories have put not only my self but also my thyroid to sleep.  Before the meds I was pretty much prone-on-sofa-only, now I can get a couple of things done before the prone-on-sofa stretch of the day happens.  But of course, being a proper infertile, the slightly increased energy makes me think, “Maybe the embryo died!”  This despite my own dang recommendation to take to heart A Beautiful Day’s advice that symptoms vary all the time in pregnancy and it just means your body is adjusting, not that anyone is dead.

But 5w5d then also became the first day of actual barf, rather than just waves of nausea.   Getting in the shower this morning, I yawned and it immediately turned into gagging. I shouted the news to a delighted Mr. Nishkanu.  Getting onto lunchtime I have to suddenly run to the toilet, because, OMG, well… you get the idea.  And simultaneously feeling sorry for myself that I feel really, really sick and delighted because it means – maybe someone isn’t dead.   These are weird headspaces I am living in right now.

5w1d

Last Thursday.  That’s the day I finally gave in and bought new bras.  I didn’t want to buy anything pregnancy-related until after we see the heartbeat, but the straitjacket-like fit of all my current bras was driving me nuts and I decided it was worth it to be comfortable for the couple weeks until my 7w ultrasound.  Yep, and for real, I am already one full cup size larger.  Who the heck is already one size larger when they are only 5w along?  It’s gotta be the progesterone, Dr. Google says this shouldn’t be happening until the end of the 1st trimester.   If any of you ladies out there have experience with this I would love to hear about it, right now I feel like some kind of boobular circus freak.

• Updated to add: my clinic confirmed that the extra progesterone and estrogen from my meds is what caused me to swell up extra-ultra-early.  No circus freaks around here.

4w6d

That’s the first day I went back to the gym (note: with RE permission) since laying off on exercise since a few days before transfer.  I just wanted to see how things would go, and did the world’s lamest workout ever – 20 minutes on the elliptical at the pace of a slightly enthusiastic snail.   I got overheated almost immediately (something that is Not Allowed in pregnancy) and switched to a colder exercise room, then I watched my heart rate wander all over the place even at the geriatric pace I was keeping.  Finally: dizziness and I got off.  It was sad.

Next trip to the gym was after the thyroid meds had started kicking in, 5w3d.  And: hitting the weights again (note: in case you haven’t picked up on this from previous posts my main exercise is serious full-body weight-lifting, which I love love love, and you will too if you use this program).  I modified my exercise program by dividing all the weights that I had used before transfer in half – I figured that would be a good, conservative start.  And, sad but true, often that was just plenty, thankyouverymuch.   But still: I actually really got to do a workout, and I didn’t overheat, and I actually got sore in places, and it felt so good to be back doing something I just love to do and makes me feel great.

Then I went home and napped on the sofa the rest of the day.

5w3d

That’s the day I decided to actively choose to give up some of my post-BFP anxiety, come what may.   It occurred to me that if this does work out and we get a real live actual baby out of it, we will be kind of bumming if we had spent the pregnancy freaking out constantly that it might be dead instead of being happy that it was alive.  And if it does not work out, am I going to say to myself, “Gee, I am so glad that I spent the last weeks totally stressed out and worried – that makes this miscarriage so much better!”?  I don’t think so.

So: not exactly going nuts and decking out the nursery, but at least trying consciously to move away from a focus on doom and gloom.  The grip is loosening up a bit.    Still retain the right to express future Dead Baby Thoughts.  Even in this very post.

7w6d

April 21.  That’s when I finally get to have my 7w ultrasound, and find out if the baby has a heartbeat or not (that sound you hear in the background is fingernails being chewed, Newfound Acceptance (TM) notwithstanding).  Why do I have to wait so fricking long?  Because I have the only RE in the world who is going on vacation and closing their entire clinic from 6w2d until 7w5d.  He said we could come in earlier if we wanted reassurance, but I know I won’t really feel reassured until we see the hearbeat.  It is possible to see the heartbeat at 6w, but it is also possible not to.  And I definitely don’t want to get into the situation where we go in and he says “gee, it doesn’t look so good, but now you will have to wait 10 days while I am on vacation before I tell you if your pregnancy is doomed or not.”  Better to just get the bad news in one big fell swoop, I think.  What thinks you?

And for reassurance?  Thank god for the barfing.  Yes, I realize that is a little twisted.  But let’s run with what we’ve got for now.