Soon I will blog about something other than this pregnancy, I promise. I just need a little good mojo, tonight, ladies.
I debated whether or not to blog about this or not. You know how sometimes things don't seem real until you voice them? For me, once I write it down it's given life, so I am very careful what I write about. I stopped keeping a journal a long time ago.
I am almost 8 weeks pregnant. I am bleeding. Not a lot, mind, just a spot here and there, a larger spot here and there. I am not cramping. I am not passing tissue. But I am not stopping, either. It's been going on since Monday afternoon. My first call to the nurse earned me a reassuring "not to worry, very common". My second call got me scheduled for an ultrasound. I don't know if that was because they were more worried, or if they simply wanted to stop me before I started calling daily. Either way, I go tomorrow at 2 PM to find out what the situation is. Hopefully I am far enough in for them to detect a heartbeat. I have been driving myself insane for days going back and forth between thinking "meh, it's fine" and "oh, my, god, it took me five months to get pregnant and now it's over before it starts". I really need to have an answer, no matter what it may be.
I dreamed last night that my niece belonged to me, and that I was putting her to bed in the room with Kayleigh. I don't know if that's my psyche's wishful thinking, or a sign of what's to be.So, good mojo for me tonight, if you don't mind. I will post this weekend and let you know what the situation is, either way.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Evil
My mother, bless her heart, gave the Kraken for Christmas one of those horrible Big Mouth Billy Bass singing fish. If I have to listen to Take me to the river one. more. time. this evening, I may lose what little sense I have left.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
7 weeks today
I feel like shit on a shingle. I think I blocked out this part from my memory. This morning, I almost barfed while brushing my teeth. Then, in the car, whilst outlining the list of foods that sounded tasty to me (ramen noodles, tater tots, bloomin' onions, etc), I simultaneously felt my mouth begin to water in anticipation, and the bile rise in my throat as I even considered the possibility of eating.
I am trying to appreciate the crappiness of how I feel as it's a very present reminder of the fact that my hormones are doubling daily. I know this is no guarantee the baby is okay, but in the days before even getting a glimpse of my little parasite, it helps.
Help me push the Minotaur towards Rowan for a girl, ladies. That's my current pick, and it's jammed tight in my head for some reason. If it's a boy, he gets the name that would have been the Kraken's should she have sprouted testicles - Connor.
I am trying to appreciate the crappiness of how I feel as it's a very present reminder of the fact that my hormones are doubling daily. I know this is no guarantee the baby is okay, but in the days before even getting a glimpse of my little parasite, it helps.
Help me push the Minotaur towards Rowan for a girl, ladies. That's my current pick, and it's jammed tight in my head for some reason. If it's a boy, he gets the name that would have been the Kraken's should she have sprouted testicles - Connor.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
And so it begins
I return from a prolonged absence to tell you. I am knocked up. I will try to blog more regularly now that the effort to get pregnant is no longer eating my soul from the inside.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Confession
My name is Suburban Gorgon, and I am an addict.
I know what you're thinking - if she knows that, she knows there are help groups available to her, resources in the community. Uh uh. Not for this particular addiction.
You see, I am addicted to taking pregnancy tests. As the mother of the Kraken, who is now three years old, I remember the overpowering rush of excitement I felt upon seeing those magical two little pink lines appear as I was putting the cap on the test stick (no waiting three minutes for me!). I had always known I wanted children, and to miraculously conceive after 6 weeks of trying, at the age of 33, seemed like such a gift, and so it turned out to be. Now, almost four years later, I am 37, and it isn't going so smoothly this time.
The first month when my period arrived right on schedule, I wasn't surprised. After all, I had one period last time after I went off the pill as well. The second month, I was so confident that I had managed to conceive quickly again, I took an early test, several days before my period was due. Negative. Well, that just means there isn't enough hormone yet, right? After all, they don't get 99% accurate until you're late. Wait two days, take another one. Negative again. And then period. So much for that.
The third month, I thought, would be the charm. We had been having still more, um, relations, and this time I had been paying very close attention to my signals. I knew when I should have ovulated, and I frog marched the Minotaur to bed at all the right times, with all the passion of a tax audit. This time, I couldn't even wait for it to be "five days before the missed period". This time, I took the test a full week before my period was due. The hell? Those things are expensive, even when you buy them in bulk at Costco, as I have now taken to doing. And there was no way that it would have shown up yet at that point even if I was pregnant. So why the hell did I take it? That's easy. Hope.
Five tests later (not kidding), my period arrived. Time for month four. Now this is getting serious. Two more months and at my "advanced maternal age", I should be consulting my doctor about potential fertility problems. Come on! This is the body that created the Kraken. It's not possible that it should have turned on me in just a few short years. Did I wait too long? Did I miss my window? This has to be the month it happens.
This is technically now month five. I would love to say that at the end of month 4 I waited until my period was due to test. I would be lying. Early tests (yes, plural) were negative. The day of my period came and went. As did the next day, and the next, and the next. I held hope in my heart like a tumor, growing inside me every day but feeding on me like cancer, too. I took another test. Negative. I waited two more days. No period. Another test. Negative. If my period does not make an appearance tomorrow, it will be a week late. To some of you, this may sound normal, but I'm a regular sort of girl, if you know what I mean. To be a week late should mean baby, but there's no way I should test negative now if I'm this pregnant - I would have hormones leaking out my ears.
I need help. Before I have to mortgage my house to pay for this little habit of mine.
I know what you're thinking - if she knows that, she knows there are help groups available to her, resources in the community. Uh uh. Not for this particular addiction.
You see, I am addicted to taking pregnancy tests. As the mother of the Kraken, who is now three years old, I remember the overpowering rush of excitement I felt upon seeing those magical two little pink lines appear as I was putting the cap on the test stick (no waiting three minutes for me!). I had always known I wanted children, and to miraculously conceive after 6 weeks of trying, at the age of 33, seemed like such a gift, and so it turned out to be. Now, almost four years later, I am 37, and it isn't going so smoothly this time.
The first month when my period arrived right on schedule, I wasn't surprised. After all, I had one period last time after I went off the pill as well. The second month, I was so confident that I had managed to conceive quickly again, I took an early test, several days before my period was due. Negative. Well, that just means there isn't enough hormone yet, right? After all, they don't get 99% accurate until you're late. Wait two days, take another one. Negative again. And then period. So much for that.
The third month, I thought, would be the charm. We had been having still more, um, relations, and this time I had been paying very close attention to my signals. I knew when I should have ovulated, and I frog marched the Minotaur to bed at all the right times, with all the passion of a tax audit. This time, I couldn't even wait for it to be "five days before the missed period". This time, I took the test a full week before my period was due. The hell? Those things are expensive, even when you buy them in bulk at Costco, as I have now taken to doing. And there was no way that it would have shown up yet at that point even if I was pregnant. So why the hell did I take it? That's easy. Hope.
Five tests later (not kidding), my period arrived. Time for month four. Now this is getting serious. Two more months and at my "advanced maternal age", I should be consulting my doctor about potential fertility problems. Come on! This is the body that created the Kraken. It's not possible that it should have turned on me in just a few short years. Did I wait too long? Did I miss my window? This has to be the month it happens.
This is technically now month five. I would love to say that at the end of month 4 I waited until my period was due to test. I would be lying. Early tests (yes, plural) were negative. The day of my period came and went. As did the next day, and the next, and the next. I held hope in my heart like a tumor, growing inside me every day but feeding on me like cancer, too. I took another test. Negative. I waited two more days. No period. Another test. Negative. If my period does not make an appearance tomorrow, it will be a week late. To some of you, this may sound normal, but I'm a regular sort of girl, if you know what I mean. To be a week late should mean baby, but there's no way I should test negative now if I'm this pregnant - I would have hormones leaking out my ears.
I need help. Before I have to mortgage my house to pay for this little habit of mine.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
A snapshot in time
Driving home from work yesterday. The weather was warm, unseasonably so for early October in my neck of the woods. I took off my jacket in the car, and stretched my arms out as I sat at the stoplight on the highway, halfway from home.
I glanced over at the car next to me. Large, burly man. Spacers in both ears. Tattoos all over both arms. And I thought. Well. I bet he's over there listening to something loud. On the way to somewhere interesting. Where no one will spray bits of cereal in his face when they talk. And here I sit over in my car. I have tattoos all over me too. But I am driving to a daycare with a fluffy pink blanket in the backseat, and an electric red Elmo doll on the floor by my feet. I am listening to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on my CD player and there is no chance that a bar is anywhere in my near future. That guy over there looks like me, but I'm not in that world anymore. I didn't feel grief, or even envy, just a detached interest in the fact that two people could look so much alike, but be living in such different worlds.
As I ruminated on this, his car pulled away into the turn lane to the right to exit onto the highway. And it was then that I saw his license plate. GRFNDOR. Heh.
I glanced over at the car next to me. Large, burly man. Spacers in both ears. Tattoos all over both arms. And I thought. Well. I bet he's over there listening to something loud. On the way to somewhere interesting. Where no one will spray bits of cereal in his face when they talk. And here I sit over in my car. I have tattoos all over me too. But I am driving to a daycare with a fluffy pink blanket in the backseat, and an electric red Elmo doll on the floor by my feet. I am listening to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on my CD player and there is no chance that a bar is anywhere in my near future. That guy over there looks like me, but I'm not in that world anymore. I didn't feel grief, or even envy, just a detached interest in the fact that two people could look so much alike, but be living in such different worlds.
As I ruminated on this, his car pulled away into the turn lane to the right to exit onto the highway. And it was then that I saw his license plate. GRFNDOR. Heh.
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