I sincerely expect this to be my last pregnancy. I have been a bit amazed and bemused at how few details I can recall of the other pregnancies. I recall emotions, overall impressions, but certainly no dates or real facts. Maybe that is how pregnancy horror stories grow so easily - no one remembers anything except how they felt, which gets translated into much worse stories than reality. Thus, I intend to use this blog to keep an accurate record of just a few facts for this, my last journey through pregnancy.
Nausea
The weeks here are back-calculated from your due-date, as estimated by early ultrasound on June 24.
I started feeling that odd, "all day" sick that I associate with pregnancy on June 15 or 16 (5.5 weeks). It wasn't really miserable yet - I didn't even change my eating habits - but it was the final encouragement I needed to get a home pregnancy test.
I first threw up on June 19 (6 weeks). After that, the all-day, lay around the house and be miserable, nausea started in earnest. Oddly enough, I found that going running was one of the best cures for nausea. I didn't feel at all sick as long as I was moving.
I didn't actually vomit again for a week, on June 27 (7 weeks). But I sure wished I could have a number of time in between.
Had a reasonably good week, including during our trip to VA. As long as I ate regulary and well, I felt okay. But the day we drove home was terrible. I was nauseated the entire 13 hour drive, only to vomit prolifically as I stepped into our driveway at midnight (7/6). Next two days were also a complete loss, vomiting again on July 8 (nearly 9 wks).
The next morning, my "PrimaBella" band arrived by Fed Ex and seemed to maybe be a miracle - I went to work, felt pretty good, was even late getting lunch and not too sick. Unfortunately, seemed to be less and less effective each successive day. Have pretty much lost the weekend lying on the couch feeling tired and nauseated. at 9 wks now - here's hoping this will end by 13 wks instead of much later.
Spent week 10 pretty miserable. Eased into week 11 with the arrival of Jeff and Shannon and my most prolific and projectile vomiting yet (7/23). Thankfully, went on to have a pretty great week for vacation at the lake. Managed to stay up past midnight for my high school reunion (20 years!) without getting sick. Felt functional if marginal most of the week, with only 2 days of "I am not getting out of bed for any reason." Even managed to go running with Shannon one day - run 1 mile, walk 1/2 mile, run 1 mile, walk 1/2 mile, all in just over 30 minutes. Of course, next day was a bad one. Didn't actually vomit the whole week of vacation.
It was Week 12, the Monday (8/2) after we returned, when I let loose again. This was also the day Jeff and Shannon departed. Maybe I just need them in the state to feel well.
Week 13 begins tomorrow. Today (8/4), I actually drank lemonade and ate a small piece of cake at a church meeting. Two weeks ago, that would have had me vomiting before I finished. Tonight, I enjoyed it. Eating dessert again is a trend I can enjoy, even if my weight gain might not appreciate it. Still, at 13 weeks, I have lost a pound or two overall, so I fell that I am doing okay. Although, since my belly is multiple inches larger, I wonder where the weight has been lost from? I have a sinking suspicion it is all just muscle mass. Oh well.
Okay, week 13 didn't go so well. The all-day nausea is mostly gone, but tired and a bit "off" each morning, then a spectacularly large vomit event after lunch on week 13 day 0, day 1, day 2, day 4, day 6. Ugh.
Week 14 - much better. No vomiting, and much less nausea. Looking up? Managed to travel to Seattle and back this week, with odd meal times, sleep schedules, and all, and still felt pretty good, most of the time.
Belly-size
Still feeling reasonably normal sized up until 7 weeks. I have had a bit of a belly that I wanted to get rid of for a few months before the pregnancy, so I suppose that will mask growth a bit, now.
On June 27 (7 weeks), I noticed for the first time that I really wanted to unbutton my shorts. So I guess this is real growing, now. Time to look for clothes with no waists for a while.
On July 12 (9 wks) was in church for the first time in 3 weeks. Felt conspicuous. Haven't told people yet but feeling like it must be getting obvious - just not quite obvious enough for anyone to ask. But I don't know any way to make a "general announcement" so I will just have to rely on word-of-mouth and the passage of time.
August 4 (13 wks tomorrow) - able to tell a "crowd" tonight at church meeting tonight, so hopefully word will spread now. Belly doesn't seem to have grown at all since 7 wks - just a perpetual "bigness" that borders between "Is she pregnant or just getting fatter?" So, I will feel less self-conscious having people know. Apparently the growth pattern for baby #4 is pop out instantly and hang there until the baby grows enough to catch up with the belly size.
Body aches and pains
I recall saying once that my first clue that I was pregnant with John was that my hips ached at night in bed, and I couldn't sleep more than an hour without tossing or turning. This time around, I was thinking that it has been worth every penny for our new mattress (bought since John was born). I had been sleeping very comfortably.
On June 25 (7 weeks) I did for the first time put a pillow between my knees. The mattress helps a lot, but I was starting to feel the strain on the top hip.
One June 28, I added a pillow under my abdomen. I recall that I didn't need that so much for a previous pregnancy (I think it was John?) but that I was desperately miserable without it for another one (Maggie?). Could this be a sign of another girl? Probably not. Since I can't even recall for sure if it was the other way around, it probably doesn't make a good indicator. :)
Girl or Boy?
It is still very early to have an intuition, but I recall thinking that I "knew" (correctly) with each of the other 3 kids, well before the ultrasound confirmed a sex. I wonder how I will do this time?
Jeremy is thinking it is a boy, right now. That was my first inclination, too. I don't know why. But it is not a strong enough feeling that I would stake my guess on it, yet.
I think my nausea patterns follow a progession of intensity with pregnancy, rather than with baby's sex. Although in honest assessment, I am probably not sicker this time than with John. Would I be if this were a girl? Hmm.
My dreams were always the best telltale. I will wait and see if I have a convincing one. I think they always came around the end of the first trimester.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Growing Pains
Well, it is 2:30 AM and I am wide awake. I fell asleep easily enough at 9:00 this evening, but as has happened for several weeks now, I only seem able to sleep a few hours at a time, any time of day.
Most nights, I wake up with an overwhelming need to eat before the nausea hits. Tonight, that wasn't so clear, so I lay in bed a while, hoping to go back to sleep. As the minutes ticked by, I felt that I could almost feel my abdomen stretching as I lay in bed. I decided to get up and try a new position for a while.
I really can't recall when I started "showing" with the other pregnancies. I recall that it got earlier each time. I know that with James, I thought I would never grow. I was so anxious to "be pregnant," after all the waiting, that I was ready to leap into maternity clothes the first day. But it was at least 12-13 weeks, I am pretty sure, and even then, I could have gotten by with just a loose waist for quite a while.
I recall that Maggie was earlier, but that is all that I recall. For John, I don't really recall at all, except that I wanted to go to loose waists to relieve the nausea fairly early on. I do recall an incident with John in mid-to-late January when a stranger felt sure enough to comment on my pregnancy, so it must have been fairly clear. That probably would have been as late as 17 weeks, though.
Having just bought a new summer wardrobe a month ago, I was this time actually counting on staying in normal clothes for at least most of the summer. After all, I will only be at 17 weeks on Labor Day. Wait a minute... 17 weeks on Labor Day? Who am I kidding? In any case, I am now at 7.5 weeks and all my waistbands feel uncomfortable.
I saw the Mom's group at the park yesterday and learned that Stacey is also expecting a baby, about 4 weeks sooner than I am. She is definitely showing. She has had more pregnancies than I, but still. It was a wake-up call that I should at least look for some loose summer dresses if I am not ready for maternity wear. In fact, it set me to wondering what I will pack for our trip in 2 days - if I even have a week's worth of things that I can squeeze into.
As long as I am shopping, I may as well do an inventory of the whole maternity clothing box. I have a strong recollection that after John, I got rid of a lot of things, saying, "This is so worn," or "I really have never liked this hand-me-down at all," so "If I ever need clothes again, I will just treat myself to new things." So, here I am, having to pay the piper for that casual vow. But overall, what a fabulous problem to have.
Most nights, I wake up with an overwhelming need to eat before the nausea hits. Tonight, that wasn't so clear, so I lay in bed a while, hoping to go back to sleep. As the minutes ticked by, I felt that I could almost feel my abdomen stretching as I lay in bed. I decided to get up and try a new position for a while.
I really can't recall when I started "showing" with the other pregnancies. I recall that it got earlier each time. I know that with James, I thought I would never grow. I was so anxious to "be pregnant," after all the waiting, that I was ready to leap into maternity clothes the first day. But it was at least 12-13 weeks, I am pretty sure, and even then, I could have gotten by with just a loose waist for quite a while.
I recall that Maggie was earlier, but that is all that I recall. For John, I don't really recall at all, except that I wanted to go to loose waists to relieve the nausea fairly early on. I do recall an incident with John in mid-to-late January when a stranger felt sure enough to comment on my pregnancy, so it must have been fairly clear. That probably would have been as late as 17 weeks, though.
Having just bought a new summer wardrobe a month ago, I was this time actually counting on staying in normal clothes for at least most of the summer. After all, I will only be at 17 weeks on Labor Day. Wait a minute... 17 weeks on Labor Day? Who am I kidding? In any case, I am now at 7.5 weeks and all my waistbands feel uncomfortable.
I saw the Mom's group at the park yesterday and learned that Stacey is also expecting a baby, about 4 weeks sooner than I am. She is definitely showing. She has had more pregnancies than I, but still. It was a wake-up call that I should at least look for some loose summer dresses if I am not ready for maternity wear. In fact, it set me to wondering what I will pack for our trip in 2 days - if I even have a week's worth of things that I can squeeze into.
As long as I am shopping, I may as well do an inventory of the whole maternity clothing box. I have a strong recollection that after John, I got rid of a lot of things, saying, "This is so worn," or "I really have never liked this hand-me-down at all," so "If I ever need clothes again, I will just treat myself to new things." So, here I am, having to pay the piper for that casual vow. But overall, what a fabulous problem to have.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Spreading the word
It was fun to tell Grandma and Grandpa about you. Dad called them while we were driving up there, right after the ultrasound. He said Grandma cried on the phone when she heard the news. Dad tried to call Grandpa at work and couldn't reach him; he said Grandma must have already called and been on the phone with him!
We told your brothers and sister about you, next. Dad showed them a photo from the ultrasound, in which you look like nothing more than a gray blob in a bunch of other gray blobs. James figured it out first - maybe he remembered a similar photo from when John was born. Maggie was very excited - after all, she has been asking for a new baby for many months now. (In fact, that night, she stayed over again with Grandma and Grandma said Maggie prayed for you at bedtime, for you to grow strong and be healthy.) James was a bit more reticent. Perhaps he remembers more of how much work a new baby is, as well as how much fun. Perhaps, because of his personality and age, he already feels the most neglected, and is having trouble accepting another sibling to share the time of his parents. But, he was thinking about it, processing it slowly and internally, like he usually does. John, of course, really had no idea what we were talking about. :)
When we left that evening, we had planned to leave all 3 kids for one more night at Grandma's house, but James decided to come home with us. That seemed to be just what he needed - a lot of quiet alone time, by himself, and with Mom and Dad to himself. Jeremy decided to stop at Cran-Hill Ranch on the drive home, and we bought ice-cream cones and walked around for an hour, talking and holding hands. We ate dinner at Pizza King and arrived home for bed.
My sleep schedule continued to be confused. I slept from 8 pm to midnight, then woke hungry. I snacked and talked to Jeremy from midnight to 1:30 am, then slept again until 5:30 am. Then, I was up and eating again. That was fine, in the end. I got out to Meijer and back before 8 am, so we would have groceries for the big family birthday party for John that day. I had a nice talk, in the quiet early hours, with James. His questions proved to me that he had been working on the news, even though he hadn't reacted much yet. He was asking about how I knew I was pregnant before the ultrasound, and where the baby would sleep, and other important things. He was clearly warming up to the idea, too. Then, Jeremy woke up so I slept another 2 hours on the couch while Jeremy and James cleaned the house up for the party.
At the party, we got to tell Grandma and Grandpa Root, who seemed happy and surprised, and Aunt Sara and Uncle Rob, who seemed happy and surprised as well. (Aunt Sara is expecting a baby just a few weeks before we expect you!) Your siblings enjoyed comparing notes with their cousins about the new babies arriving for each of them. Finally, Grandpa Tom and Uncle Jim arrived, and we told them, too. Grandpa Tom is nervous, of course, but he will love you to pieces when you get here. And Uncle Jim loves all babies. I think you will like him a lot.
So, the list of people to tell grows shorter. You are only 7 weeks along now, just 8 mm long on last Thursday, and yet you already feel like a part of our family.
We told your brothers and sister about you, next. Dad showed them a photo from the ultrasound, in which you look like nothing more than a gray blob in a bunch of other gray blobs. James figured it out first - maybe he remembered a similar photo from when John was born. Maggie was very excited - after all, she has been asking for a new baby for many months now. (In fact, that night, she stayed over again with Grandma and Grandma said Maggie prayed for you at bedtime, for you to grow strong and be healthy.) James was a bit more reticent. Perhaps he remembers more of how much work a new baby is, as well as how much fun. Perhaps, because of his personality and age, he already feels the most neglected, and is having trouble accepting another sibling to share the time of his parents. But, he was thinking about it, processing it slowly and internally, like he usually does. John, of course, really had no idea what we were talking about. :)
When we left that evening, we had planned to leave all 3 kids for one more night at Grandma's house, but James decided to come home with us. That seemed to be just what he needed - a lot of quiet alone time, by himself, and with Mom and Dad to himself. Jeremy decided to stop at Cran-Hill Ranch on the drive home, and we bought ice-cream cones and walked around for an hour, talking and holding hands. We ate dinner at Pizza King and arrived home for bed.
My sleep schedule continued to be confused. I slept from 8 pm to midnight, then woke hungry. I snacked and talked to Jeremy from midnight to 1:30 am, then slept again until 5:30 am. Then, I was up and eating again. That was fine, in the end. I got out to Meijer and back before 8 am, so we would have groceries for the big family birthday party for John that day. I had a nice talk, in the quiet early hours, with James. His questions proved to me that he had been working on the news, even though he hadn't reacted much yet. He was asking about how I knew I was pregnant before the ultrasound, and where the baby would sleep, and other important things. He was clearly warming up to the idea, too. Then, Jeremy woke up so I slept another 2 hours on the couch while Jeremy and James cleaned the house up for the party.
At the party, we got to tell Grandma and Grandpa Root, who seemed happy and surprised, and Aunt Sara and Uncle Rob, who seemed happy and surprised as well. (Aunt Sara is expecting a baby just a few weeks before we expect you!) Your siblings enjoyed comparing notes with their cousins about the new babies arriving for each of them. Finally, Grandpa Tom and Uncle Jim arrived, and we told them, too. Grandpa Tom is nervous, of course, but he will love you to pieces when you get here. And Uncle Jim loves all babies. I think you will like him a lot.
So, the list of people to tell grows shorter. You are only 7 weeks along now, just 8 mm long on last Thursday, and yet you already feel like a part of our family.
Turnings
What a wild week we've traveled, dear baby.
Last week, Friday, was our 16th anniversary. We had just learned of you the day before, and I was off with excitement to see you for the first time by ultrasound. The beta-HCG level of 17,000 from the day before, combined with being 7.5 weeks along according to my cycle, convinced me (and the doctor) that we should see you by now.
But something was wrong. I didn't get to go to my usual OB's office; the open appointment was in the general facility, where they do ultrasounds for all purposes. The technician was young, and highly insensitive to the delicate nerves and emotions of a pregnant mother. She took a long time and said nothing, hiding the screen from me. Finally, at the very end, she simply announced that she had found the yolk sac but could find no fetal pole.
Blood was pounding in my ears. This sounded so much like what happened exactly a year ago. I immediately believed that another miscarriage was on the way. The technician decided to consult with the radiologist, leaving me to sit and stew in my misery for over half-an-hour, alone in the dark, cold room. Then, it was home to deliver the news to Jeremy. So quickly I had embraced you, and so quickly I felt you snatched away. Yesterday I was good for nothing because I was dreaming of you; today for nothing because I couldn't stop thinking about what might have been.
My doctor's office called late that afternoon, and because of poor communication from the technician, I ended up having to tell them that there was no sign of a baby yet. The reaction of the nurse, who was then taken off guard, was not at all encouraging. She simply agreed that was not a promising sign and scheduled another ultrasound for the following week.
We had been thinking earlier about hiring a sitter and going to dinner for our anniversary, but now I didn't feel like it at all. We invited the Wunder family to join us for pizza at our house, instead. We didn't tell them what was happening, but just felt better somehow not being alone this night.
The weekend was not much better. Saturday, we had planned to clean the basement. I threw up in the middle of doing that Saturday morning, which added insult to it all - how could I be sick over nothing? Our progress was slow and unfocused.
Sunday morning, I felt just a bit better. We biked to church, and the exercise did me good. On the trip home, I just about had myself convinced that it would be okay - three is a good number for a family, too. We took the kids up to Grandma Di's and Grandpa Glen's for lunch, and Jeremy told them our story. I was sad all over again. James and Margaret were staying up there until Thursday night (going to Vacation Bible School with Grandma) so we came home with just John that night.
Monday morning, I was still feeling sick, which I had never done a year ago when I miscarried. I suddenly felt new resolve that I was not giving up on this pregnancy yet. Emotionally, I couldn't dare to dream and hope and plan. But, I could treat myself with care, in all the ways that I would for any pregnancy (lots of sleep, no caffeine or alcohol, etc.). I would not shut the door, yet. And, I chose two prayer warrior friends to tell by email, knowing they could spend the week, along with Glen and Di, praying for what I dared not voice out loud yet.
The week passed in a blur and yet dragged at the most incredibly slow pace. I felt sick much of the time. I slept a lot during the day. I was awake a lot at night. All of the normal ways I behave when newly pregnant, except the misery seemed so much greater with no future expectations for a baby.
Finally, Thursday arrived. I had steeled myself to expect nothing. This ultrasound was at my OB's office - a much more familiar place, with the technician (Kim) whom I know well and like well. That she was the one to deliver all the bad news last year, I tried to put out of my mind.
Kim didn't waste time. The first thing she said was, "There is the baby's heartbeat!" Tears poured from my eyes as I immediately opened my heart to the hopes I had been keeping locked in so tightly. Kim, bless her heart, said that seeing me so happy had just made HER day. I couldn't find words strong enough to return the sentiment to her. "Believe me, Kim, you've made up for my whole week, and more!"
I recall little else of the procedure - I just basked in the renewed and affirmed knowledge of you, dear baby. Apparently, one of us was just slow. Instead of being 8 weeks 2days (as by my cycle), you measured at 6 weeks 5 days. So, you were just too small last week to show up. But all looked fine, now!
Oh, what a new world it is, now!
Last week, Friday, was our 16th anniversary. We had just learned of you the day before, and I was off with excitement to see you for the first time by ultrasound. The beta-HCG level of 17,000 from the day before, combined with being 7.5 weeks along according to my cycle, convinced me (and the doctor) that we should see you by now.
But something was wrong. I didn't get to go to my usual OB's office; the open appointment was in the general facility, where they do ultrasounds for all purposes. The technician was young, and highly insensitive to the delicate nerves and emotions of a pregnant mother. She took a long time and said nothing, hiding the screen from me. Finally, at the very end, she simply announced that she had found the yolk sac but could find no fetal pole.
Blood was pounding in my ears. This sounded so much like what happened exactly a year ago. I immediately believed that another miscarriage was on the way. The technician decided to consult with the radiologist, leaving me to sit and stew in my misery for over half-an-hour, alone in the dark, cold room. Then, it was home to deliver the news to Jeremy. So quickly I had embraced you, and so quickly I felt you snatched away. Yesterday I was good for nothing because I was dreaming of you; today for nothing because I couldn't stop thinking about what might have been.
My doctor's office called late that afternoon, and because of poor communication from the technician, I ended up having to tell them that there was no sign of a baby yet. The reaction of the nurse, who was then taken off guard, was not at all encouraging. She simply agreed that was not a promising sign and scheduled another ultrasound for the following week.
We had been thinking earlier about hiring a sitter and going to dinner for our anniversary, but now I didn't feel like it at all. We invited the Wunder family to join us for pizza at our house, instead. We didn't tell them what was happening, but just felt better somehow not being alone this night.
The weekend was not much better. Saturday, we had planned to clean the basement. I threw up in the middle of doing that Saturday morning, which added insult to it all - how could I be sick over nothing? Our progress was slow and unfocused.
Sunday morning, I felt just a bit better. We biked to church, and the exercise did me good. On the trip home, I just about had myself convinced that it would be okay - three is a good number for a family, too. We took the kids up to Grandma Di's and Grandpa Glen's for lunch, and Jeremy told them our story. I was sad all over again. James and Margaret were staying up there until Thursday night (going to Vacation Bible School with Grandma) so we came home with just John that night.
Monday morning, I was still feeling sick, which I had never done a year ago when I miscarried. I suddenly felt new resolve that I was not giving up on this pregnancy yet. Emotionally, I couldn't dare to dream and hope and plan. But, I could treat myself with care, in all the ways that I would for any pregnancy (lots of sleep, no caffeine or alcohol, etc.). I would not shut the door, yet. And, I chose two prayer warrior friends to tell by email, knowing they could spend the week, along with Glen and Di, praying for what I dared not voice out loud yet.
The week passed in a blur and yet dragged at the most incredibly slow pace. I felt sick much of the time. I slept a lot during the day. I was awake a lot at night. All of the normal ways I behave when newly pregnant, except the misery seemed so much greater with no future expectations for a baby.
Finally, Thursday arrived. I had steeled myself to expect nothing. This ultrasound was at my OB's office - a much more familiar place, with the technician (Kim) whom I know well and like well. That she was the one to deliver all the bad news last year, I tried to put out of my mind.
Kim didn't waste time. The first thing she said was, "There is the baby's heartbeat!" Tears poured from my eyes as I immediately opened my heart to the hopes I had been keeping locked in so tightly. Kim, bless her heart, said that seeing me so happy had just made HER day. I couldn't find words strong enough to return the sentiment to her. "Believe me, Kim, you've made up for my whole week, and more!"
I recall little else of the procedure - I just basked in the renewed and affirmed knowledge of you, dear baby. Apparently, one of us was just slow. Instead of being 8 weeks 2days (as by my cycle), you measured at 6 weeks 5 days. So, you were just too small last week to show up. But all looked fine, now!
Oh, what a new world it is, now!
Thursday, June 17, 2010
"In a tizzy"
How quickly you can throw our lives upside down. All my plans for productivity today went awry. I started well - a celebratory jog. But I found myself worrying the whole time, stopping every 5 minutes to check my heart rate. Back home, I paced, waiting for the kids to be occupied. Then, the phone calls began.
First, to my OB. Told the whole story to the receptionist: "I am pregnant. I have two previous ectopic pregnancies, so Dr. Rinzler likes me to have an early ultrasound. Can you schedule that?" [Hold on while I transfer you.] Told the whold story again to the scheduler. [Umm, did you talk to a nurse who authorized the ultrasound?] "No, the receptionist transferred me directly to you." [Okay, let's schedule your first two prenatal appointments, then I will transfer you to the nurse.] Told the whole story to the nurse. Got instructions to get my labwork done.
Hopped in car to get labwork done. Took Maggie along for her long overdue labwork, too. (She weathered the needlestick better than I feared - just one large, silent tear slipped down her cheek.) Back home, waited for kids to clear out again. Phoned the dentist to reschedule filling from next week to next 2nd trimester.
Now I am starving, and with that comes the nausea. Lunch, lunch, lunch. What would be safe? I won't take a chance on the slightly old deli meat. Need protein. Don't forget veggies. Settled for a slice of leftover homemade pizza with a pile of tabouleh salad and a side of carrot-raisin salad. Felt virtuous if not exactly full.
Suddenly, feeling the effects of lying awake from 3- 5 AM today. I stretch out on the couch and sleep nearly 2 hours. Interrupted by Maggie (twice) wanting me to read to her and John (once) wanting to lay next to me and roll over continuously like a steam roller. Slept on through, like a champion.
Dinnertime arrives and I find I have done nothing but dream of you, smile dumbly to myself, pace in circles. Ah, dearest baby, you are months away and we are already behind in preparing for you. Still, I can't seem to feel anything but silly joy. I don't feel 37 years old today; I feel 17 again. Soon enough, I will have to get back to the realities of my life, but for just a few days now, I will bask in this moment.
I love you , baby.
First, to my OB. Told the whole story to the receptionist: "I am pregnant. I have two previous ectopic pregnancies, so Dr. Rinzler likes me to have an early ultrasound. Can you schedule that?" [Hold on while I transfer you.] Told the whold story again to the scheduler. [Umm, did you talk to a nurse who authorized the ultrasound?] "No, the receptionist transferred me directly to you." [Okay, let's schedule your first two prenatal appointments, then I will transfer you to the nurse.] Told the whole story to the nurse. Got instructions to get my labwork done.
Hopped in car to get labwork done. Took Maggie along for her long overdue labwork, too. (She weathered the needlestick better than I feared - just one large, silent tear slipped down her cheek.) Back home, waited for kids to clear out again. Phoned the dentist to reschedule filling from next week to next 2nd trimester.
Now I am starving, and with that comes the nausea. Lunch, lunch, lunch. What would be safe? I won't take a chance on the slightly old deli meat. Need protein. Don't forget veggies. Settled for a slice of leftover homemade pizza with a pile of tabouleh salad and a side of carrot-raisin salad. Felt virtuous if not exactly full.
Suddenly, feeling the effects of lying awake from 3- 5 AM today. I stretch out on the couch and sleep nearly 2 hours. Interrupted by Maggie (twice) wanting me to read to her and John (once) wanting to lay next to me and roll over continuously like a steam roller. Slept on through, like a champion.
Dinnertime arrives and I find I have done nothing but dream of you, smile dumbly to myself, pace in circles. Ah, dearest baby, you are months away and we are already behind in preparing for you. Still, I can't seem to feel anything but silly joy. I don't feel 37 years old today; I feel 17 again. Soon enough, I will have to get back to the realities of my life, but for just a few days now, I will bask in this moment.
I love you , baby.
3 AM
Once I knew, I knew. And there was no waiting. He agreed to run to the store for me at 10 PM so that I could end the suspense. Then, when he returned, I couldn't take the test. I feared inconclusive results far more than either answer, and I knew the morning test was more reliable. So, wait it was.
But at 3 AM, there was no more waiting. I was awake and needing to go, and so 3 AM it was to take the test. I fumbled in the dark bedroom for the stopwatch, the box. I squinted in the bright bathroom light, feeling my kidneys explode with pain as I skimmed through the directions. Two minutes. Read at two minutes. Got it, go. Glance down at 10 seconds...What? My heart was racing. I knew it, but there it was before me, the evidence.
Welcome, baby. You are well loved.
But at 3 AM, there was no more waiting. I was awake and needing to go, and so 3 AM it was to take the test. I fumbled in the dark bedroom for the stopwatch, the box. I squinted in the bright bathroom light, feeling my kidneys explode with pain as I skimmed through the directions. Two minutes. Read at two minutes. Got it, go. Glance down at 10 seconds...What? My heart was racing. I knew it, but there it was before me, the evidence.
Welcome, baby. You are well loved.
How many is enough?
Four, we always thought. Somehow, that was the number that just resonated for both of us.
Of course, there was a time when we wondered if it might end up being Zero. So, when we were blessed with One, we rejoiced and changed the whole focus of our world to celebrate this gift. Still, even in my joy, I began to long for two. I harbored unkind, secret envy in my heart as friends and family progressed to higher numbers and we could not. It did not diminish my joy over One, who was as perfect as ever. But I didn't feel that our family was perfect.
Then, God did bless us with Two. I felt that I had used up a lifetime of prayers in receiving this second beautiful, perfect gift. Never again would I feel envious, I promised myself and God. As others moved on to larger numbers, I resolved to feel unmuddied joy for them. As some stayed at small numbers and expressed utter contentment, I pretended to agree while inside I could not begin to fathom such a feeling. I looked for the benefits of Two, and rejoiced that I had such blessings.
Then, Genesis 17-18 came to us. We, too, laughed, like Abraham and Sarah once did long before us. God, who may be ever confusing but always giving, chose to give to us when we least expected. And so, we reached Three.
In this last gift, I could hear God's laughter, too. "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" said He. And he delighted in our joy and laughter as we delighted in him, and in our Three.
The time came to pass when after each of the other children, I had become pregnant. I felt twinges of wistfulness, but knew that our Three were a joy beyond reckoning. Then, suddenly, I found myself pregnant again. I spent one wild week: savoring, planning, basking, and ashamedly, crowing. I began to feel that I had done this myself - somehow finally endowed myself with the power to reproduce at will, as it seemed so many around me claimed to always do. My ego was short-lived as I heard the news from the doctor, and spent the next weeks waiting, hurting, crying, emptying.
No need to wait, said the doctor. Try again as soon as you want to. But I was deflated. I longed for another, but would not openly admit to myself or any other that I was trying. I could not set myself up for that defeat and loss again. "What will be, will be." And so, I set about putting it in the past. I built for us a life of Three, and we were truly happy. I found for the first time ever, I began to understand how a woman could reach a point of saying, "We are complete." I planned for the years to come, as the Three grew and could do new things.
Yet still, I knew that the wounds were not healed; merely scabbed over. From time to time, new injury would tear off the scab and reveal the ever-raw flesh underneath. Three was a blessing; I could be happy with three. We had built a good life around Three. But in my darkest moments, I still thought about Four. I thought of Four when the dear friend who was done announced her surprise Four. I thought of Four when the date arrived when I had first hoped she might be born. I marked the anniversary of my mother's death, the day I had planned to redeem with the birth of our beautiful Four. I marked this anniversay amidst the crushing end of what had been a growing, secret, hope that we might be starting a new pregnancy. I thought again of Four when my dear sister-in-law announced Four. Joy and sorrow flow mingled down.
Ridiculous, thought I. We are a good Three. It is time to move forward, make plans, rejoice in our gifts... for our cup runneth over.
And so it was that I could not, would not allow hope to grow, exactly one year after we lost our anticipated Four. When I began to sob and shed actual tears listening to the news on the radio, I pondered menopause. When acne spread across my face like a teenager's, I tried switching soaps.When odd, stretching pains shot through my lower abdomen, I blamed indigestion. But when the all-too-familiar all-day nausea settled in, a very small spark, buried deep in my soul for my own protection, blazed like a bonfire. I knew.
And so, we know not what the future holds. But we know who holds the future. And for now, for whatever reason, the God who laughs with us, for us, around us, is laughing at the sheer lavishness of his gifts to us today. And we begin to plan for our Four.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow!
Of course, there was a time when we wondered if it might end up being Zero. So, when we were blessed with One, we rejoiced and changed the whole focus of our world to celebrate this gift. Still, even in my joy, I began to long for two. I harbored unkind, secret envy in my heart as friends and family progressed to higher numbers and we could not. It did not diminish my joy over One, who was as perfect as ever. But I didn't feel that our family was perfect.
Then, God did bless us with Two. I felt that I had used up a lifetime of prayers in receiving this second beautiful, perfect gift. Never again would I feel envious, I promised myself and God. As others moved on to larger numbers, I resolved to feel unmuddied joy for them. As some stayed at small numbers and expressed utter contentment, I pretended to agree while inside I could not begin to fathom such a feeling. I looked for the benefits of Two, and rejoiced that I had such blessings.
Then, Genesis 17-18 came to us. We, too, laughed, like Abraham and Sarah once did long before us. God, who may be ever confusing but always giving, chose to give to us when we least expected. And so, we reached Three.
In this last gift, I could hear God's laughter, too. "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" said He. And he delighted in our joy and laughter as we delighted in him, and in our Three.
The time came to pass when after each of the other children, I had become pregnant. I felt twinges of wistfulness, but knew that our Three were a joy beyond reckoning. Then, suddenly, I found myself pregnant again. I spent one wild week: savoring, planning, basking, and ashamedly, crowing. I began to feel that I had done this myself - somehow finally endowed myself with the power to reproduce at will, as it seemed so many around me claimed to always do. My ego was short-lived as I heard the news from the doctor, and spent the next weeks waiting, hurting, crying, emptying.
No need to wait, said the doctor. Try again as soon as you want to. But I was deflated. I longed for another, but would not openly admit to myself or any other that I was trying. I could not set myself up for that defeat and loss again. "What will be, will be." And so, I set about putting it in the past. I built for us a life of Three, and we were truly happy. I found for the first time ever, I began to understand how a woman could reach a point of saying, "We are complete." I planned for the years to come, as the Three grew and could do new things.
Yet still, I knew that the wounds were not healed; merely scabbed over. From time to time, new injury would tear off the scab and reveal the ever-raw flesh underneath. Three was a blessing; I could be happy with three. We had built a good life around Three. But in my darkest moments, I still thought about Four. I thought of Four when the dear friend who was done announced her surprise Four. I thought of Four when the date arrived when I had first hoped she might be born. I marked the anniversary of my mother's death, the day I had planned to redeem with the birth of our beautiful Four. I marked this anniversay amidst the crushing end of what had been a growing, secret, hope that we might be starting a new pregnancy. I thought again of Four when my dear sister-in-law announced Four. Joy and sorrow flow mingled down.
Ridiculous, thought I. We are a good Three. It is time to move forward, make plans, rejoice in our gifts... for our cup runneth over.
And so it was that I could not, would not allow hope to grow, exactly one year after we lost our anticipated Four. When I began to sob and shed actual tears listening to the news on the radio, I pondered menopause. When acne spread across my face like a teenager's, I tried switching soaps.When odd, stretching pains shot through my lower abdomen, I blamed indigestion. But when the all-too-familiar all-day nausea settled in, a very small spark, buried deep in my soul for my own protection, blazed like a bonfire. I knew.
And so, we know not what the future holds. But we know who holds the future. And for now, for whatever reason, the God who laughs with us, for us, around us, is laughing at the sheer lavishness of his gifts to us today. And we begin to plan for our Four.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)