Doulas

Back when I decided to TTC, my sister (Jamie) made it known that she wanted to be my birth coach.  I was present for both of her deliveries (the second one while I was in my 2ww that turned into my first BFP) and it was such an amazing experience to be there.  I really want her there with my delivery, both for emotional support and so she can have the same experience that I did, so I’m so glad she wants to be by my side!

I also want a doula to be there as well, so I can have the emotional and physical support from both people. But how to choose a doula?  The local organization I’ve had bookmarked for 2 years has had a dwindling list of doulas on it the past six months, and today they still have the announcement on their site that the details are coming soon for the January “Meet the Doulas Tea”, which on January 31^st, doesn’t seem too promising. 

I already knew what sort of person I was hoping to find.  Somewhere along the line I’ve gone from being a woman who knew she wanted an epidural to being a woman who thinks maybe she’d like to try natural childbirth (watching Ricki Lake’s The Business of Being Born might have had something to do with this).  Because of that, I want a doula who will help me through natural childbirth, but be supportive if I give in and ask for an epidural.  Since internet wasn’t helping, I asked the nurses on labor and delivery if they had any suggestions.  They didn’t, but a midwife (with a practice other than my OB/Gyn) was in the room when I asked, and said she had a wonderful suggestion for a doula she’s worked with several times.  The doula’s name is Alex, and the midwife says she has been great, and even encouraged a mom to get an epidural once, when labor had gone on for 27 hours and the mom was just exhausted. 

I called Alex last week, and met her yesterday morning.  I love her.  She’s interesting, vibrant, knowledgeable and supportive.  This was just our initial consult visit, but she stayed and talked about all sorts of things for almost two hours, so I really got to know her, and she me.  I feel like I should be interviewing more potential candidates, but I know already that she’s a perfect fit for me, and so I hired her!

After talking with her, I feel even more confident that I’m going to go with natural childbirth, mainly because we talked about how we’d handle what to do during labor if I start to think I want an epidural.  To paraphrase what she said, “All women want an epidural at some point.  It’s my job to help you decide if you’ll be happy with your decision once the baby is born, or always wish you’d held out.”  We haven’t talked about anything else specific yet, but the for the epidural is simple. When I say I think I want an epidural, she’s going to ask me to try to hold out through one more contraction, and then reassess.  This is exactly what I do when I’m worn out at the end of a long run, and hoping to keep going that last 1-2 miles.  “I’ll keep running until I get to that tree, and then if I still want to stop, I will.”  And when I make it to the next tree, “I can keep going.  Now I’m going to try to make it to that fence post, and then I’ll reassess.”  There are times I can keep going, even though I thought I couldn’t, and times I know I have to stop, so this is a method I know will work for me.

I’m not going to be disappointed in myself if I do end up deciding to get an epidural.  But I will be disappointed if I don’t at least try to go without.  

I’m meeting with her again in a couple of weeks for a pre-delivery session where we’ll go over the stages of labor and come up with my birth plan, complete with what music I’d like her to have on her iPod.  I’ve seen lots of deliveries, but none that were natural, so I’m looking forward to it. 

But I still can’t believe that I’ve actually decided to try natural childbirth.  I wonder if someone has put something in my ice cream to make me this crazy.

My TTC Story

I wish I could say that I handled my efforts at TTC with grace and calm serenity.  But that couldn’t be further from the truth.   Trying to conceive turned me into a crazy, moody, unpleasant bitch.  I ate too much, slept too much, didn’t exercise enough, and obsessed about every single symptom during my two week wait.  I was devastated by my first two BFNs, especially since both of them occurred in the form of AF visiting days before she was due. 

My first BFN was discovered when I went to the bathroom to cry after I had to fire my nurse.  She was a sweet girl, but she couldn’t do the job and patients were being placed in harm’s way because of missed messages, so we had to fire her.  I talked to her about why we were having to fire her, feeling like I’d just kicked a puppy as I watched her cry, and then went to the bathroom for privacy while I cried myself.  And then wished I hadn’t decided to go ahead and pee while I was there. 

I’d convinced myself that I was pregnant after my second IUI, and so getting AF two days after coming home from a friend’s baby shower was devastating.  Even more disappointing was the realization that I was going to have to take the next month off, because a very dear friend of mine was having her baby shower out of town, and I had to be there for that.  I’ll never regret going to her shower, but I was miserable most of the weekend, thinking that I was ovulating that weekend, and it was all going to waste.   The misery was eased a little when Heidi got a text from her friend V, who I’d met at a party a few night’s earlier, offering to be my Baby Daddy.  He even offered to fly home with me, since I was pretty sure I was ovulating right around then, saying we could join the mile high club and get me pregnant, all at the same time. 

I know I talked about trying to get pregnant all the time.  Trying to get pregnant, and my fear that I would never be able to get pregnant were all consuming.  I’m amazed that anyone wanted to spend time with me, the miserable, obsessive, moody, crazy woman that I was. 

The one benefit of taking the month off was that I had time to meet with my RE to discuss a change in game plan.  I’d had a luteal phase defect on both of my Clomid 50mg cycles, and I only produced one follicle with each cycle, so I was ready to talk about doing something different.  He offered me the chance to go straight to IVF, but encouraged me to first try two hybrid cycle with Femara and Gonal-F.  He thought it had a good chance of working, but also thought my response would also help guide medication doses with IVF if the hybrid cycle didn’t work. 

I thought the compromise sounded reasonable, so I agreed.  On Femara 5mg and Gonal-F 75, I had two follicles.  Better than with Clomid, but not particularly impressive.  So halfway through my two week wait, I decided that if this cycle didn’t work, I was going to IVF.  I was also given Crinone, just to be on the safe side, so this time AF didn’t come early.  I managed to wait to POAS until 12dpIUI, and then I caved.  It was negative.

The next night I cried myself to sleep, and then dreaded getting up to POAS the next morning, 14dpIUI.  I was shocked when, 30 seconds after taking the test, I glanced over and saw there was only one word on the screen:  pregnant.  I was still sitting on the toilet when I called LB, Heidi and my sister to tell them the news!

You all know how things went from there.  A couple of good betas, a 7 week ultrasound that was questionable, and a 9 week ultrasound that showed no heartbeat.  Such a crazy four months of wildly variable emotions – worry and anxiety, followed by joy and worry, followed by despair.  It’s no wonder I sometimes forget much of the first part of 2010 ever happened.

The weird thing is, I didn’t experience all those crazy negative emotions with IUI #4.  I thought about it a lot, but I was pretty sure, in a way I hadn’t been before, that I was pregnant.  I was convinced from the second I was standing at the elevator after my IUI, talking to my RE, and felt the first twinges of ovulation pain that this one had worked.  I didn’t tell anyone except Heidi how sure I was, because I was afraid of looking like a fool if I was wrong.  But here I am, 26 weeks pregnant, so this time my instinct was right!

In hindsight, I realize just how easy it was for me.  I was told that I had impaired fertility – diminished ovarian reserve.  And yet I managed to conceive on 2 out of 4 cycles.  The miscarriage was horrible, that’s true, but repeated failed attempts at trying to conceive is pretty horrible, too.  I don’t think it’s possible to say that either is worse than the other, but I’m pretty sure my calm attitude going into IUI #4 was mostly because it was the first time I went into an IUI knowing that my body did know how to get pregnant.  I’d started CoEnzyme Q10 in an attempt to decrease the risk of chromosomal abnormalities (using this study protocol, which came about after studies in “elderly” mice showed decreased risk of chromosomal defects in embryos of mice given CoQ10), and that made me feel better, too. 

At any rate, I know how lucky I am right now.  There’s not a day that goes by (not even an hour) that I don’t marvel in the miracle of being pregnant, and I will never, ever take this baby for granted.  And I really hope that my neurotic behavior while TTC is something I never have to deal with again!

Choosing My Donor

Once I first decided I was really going to do this - I was really going to try to conceive on my own - I started stalking the cryobank websites, looking at donors.  I was very quickly overwhelmed, and stopped looking at all until September/October of 2009.  By then I had narrowed it down to two cryobanks, and so I started seriously looking at potential donors. 

My initial screening criteria was that my future donor had to have the same coloring as me.  At first it seemed like I should go for the things I find attractive in a potential mate, but then I realized, this child will look like either me or his donor, and it makes the most sense to at least choose a donor who has some features (like hair color and eye color) that resemble mine, to increase the chances that my baby will look like me.  I also wanted someone at least 6 feet tall, since I’m only 5’4”, and someone not overweight. 

If you’ve never looked at a cryobank’s website before, it’s just like online dating.  I actually entered in the above requirements, and got a list of donors who matched all of the above. 

And that’s when it got difficult.

All the donors answer questions about their family history, so I immediately threw out donors with a strong family history of heart disease, which my family already has.  Two of my favorites were color blind; my dad is color blind, which means I already carry the gene for that, so I threw those two out, too.  One of my favorites admitted to smoking marijuana on a regular basis.  I can’t believe that one was allowed to donate at all, since pot decreases sperm motility, and so he was out as well.

That still left about 12 potential donors to sort through.  I read through all their short answer/essay questions (things like “what’s the funniest thing that ever happened to you?”, “who do you relate to most in your family and why?”, “why did you chose to become a donor?” and “what would advice or words of wisdom would you want to pass on to your children?”

I weeded out a few more from there, and ordered the extended profiles and baby pictures on all the ones that were left.  One I immediately discarded because his baby picture was hideous (poor guy), and then a few more were thrown out for various other reasons.  That left me with 4 donors to choose from.  And so I had a party.

I really thought I was being clever, throwing a party to help me choose my donor, but apparently there are a lot of women out there who do this!  I went all out for this party – it was an evening cocktail party, with catered food, drinks and a cake (yes, that cake in the picture is the cake I ordered – my poor sister was the one who had to call and ask if the bakery could make a sperm cake!)  I called it my “Who’s Your Daddy?” party, and invited a bunch of friends, my sister and my mom to come.  Mindy flew down from New York, and three of my California friends joined in online – it was fabulous.  (Though I do want to note that this party was the one and only time my donor will ever be referred to as daddy – but the name for the party was too wonderful to resist!)

I had 8 posters, two for each donor: one labeled pros and one labeled cons.  There were copies of all the information I had on the donors scattered around the room, and everyone was encouraged to put their pros and cons for each donor onto sticky notes, and put them on the posters.  I got some great comments, and some hilarious ones as well.  A few of my favorites:

Pros:

• ·      Loves Mexican food
• ·      World traveler
• ·      compassionate
• ·      HOT HOT HOT!
• ·      Dimples
• ·      You’d totally have sex with him

Cons:

• ·      Your baby would never tan
• ·      Favorite toy was a scary clown
• ·      His favorite movie was Transformers?  Really?
• ·      Possible drug user (did you read his funniest moment?)

After everyone had finished their pros and cons, I made them all choose their favorite donor, and sign their name onto his pros poster.  The overwhelming choice was the one I had already been leaning towards, so in the end, I probably would have chosen him anyway, but it was much easier to call up the cryobank the next morning and order four vials of his swimmers knowing I had the backing of most of my friends!

Signing for their favorite

And that's it - my Who's Your Daddy post that is also my 100th blog post!  I think this calls for a celebration (I'll use any excuse for a bowl of ice cream).

Fertility Evaluation

My toes in the Usambara Mountains of Tanzania

For anyone that missed it, for my first ICLW week I decided to recap the course of my journey before I started this blog.  A couple of days ago I posted about deciding to become a Choice Mom.  Today, I'm blogging about my first visits with my RE; I think my next blog will be about choosing my donor, and then in the next day or so I'll write about my first 3 IUIs, and how crazy they made me.  It's been fun writing these; time really does have a way of putting things in a different perspective!

* * * * * * * * * 

By the time I had an appointment with my RE, the summer after I turned 37, I knew all about IUIs, OPKs and BFPs, thanks to my hours spent on SMC discussion boards. My choice of an RE was easy; one of my best friends is an OB, and she said her patients always had the best results with this particular doctor, and so that’s who I went with. At the start of our evaluation, he was optimistic that, based on my history of normal periods, all would be great. He even recommended we start with non-medicated cycles

He did want me to have a full fertility evaluation done first, though, and so I had my Day 3 labs done with an ultrasound, an AMH level and an HSG. My HSG looked great (aside from a wonky cervix that required a balloon catheter to get through – ouch!), but the rest of my labs were not so great. My AMH level was low at 0.49, with an FSH running just a tad high at 9 with a good estradiol level, and my antral follicle count was on the low side.

I got all these results over the phone from the nurse; because of a scheduling conflict I couldn’t get in to see the RE until a month after we’d finished all the tests. It embarrasses me a little now to admit how I felt then, but I had a major freak out. I guess because I look younger than I am, I expected my ovaries to act younger than they are, too. I was so sure my fertility evaluation was going to be perfect, and when I found out it wasn’t, I was terrified. I went from imagining a couple of IUIs, to anticipating multiple BFNs, IVF, huge bills and the potential for no baby at all. In retrospect, I overreacted, imagining problems and obstacles that might never materialize. As my RE had pointed out in our first visit, nothing shows what your fertility status is like actually TTC.

Which is what he reminded me of when we had our first post-evaluation visit. He told me that if I’d come to him after a year of TTC on my own, we would be talking about going straight to IVF. But since I’d never tried to conceive on my own, he thought that 3 IUI cycles with Clomid would be reasonable, and then reassessing after that, based on my response. “Your labs are only indicators of a potential problem. They don’t tell us the whole story.”

I was a little comforted by our appointment, but I still worried. One wonderful result of that worry was an appointment with an acupuncturist who specializes in fertility. I honestly think that my weekly appointments with her helped to restore my sanity. And they probably helped with my fertility as well. But even if it turns out that traditional Chinese medicine does nothing at all for fertility, I feel so much better, so much more like myself as a result of working with her, that I don’t really care.

I happily took all my herbs, did my fertility yoga, ate organic and lost 15 pounds over the course of the next six months, looking forward to my last vacation before starting the IUI process in January 2010. I was ready for the thought that it was going to take me a few tries to be successful. I was optimistic, with a healthy dose of pessimism mixed in, so I was sure I was going to sail through TTC with no major problems, no weight gain and just joyful anticipation.

I was wrong about that! I think that’s what I’ll cover in my one of my next posts.  :)

ETA:  I just realized that I have 99 days left until my due date....and this was my 99th blog entry.  This makes the third crazy number thing this pregnancy (after a conception date of 8/9/10 and 111 days left on 1/11/11) - I wonder if he's going to be a math genius?

In the Beginning

Me standing in Ngorongoro Crater

Welcome IComLeavWe'rs!  As you can see by my profile, I’m a 39 year old single mom by choice, currently 25 weeks pregnant after 4 IUIs and1 miscarriage.  Most of my bloggy friends are other SMCs, or women on the road to becoming SMCs, but I’ve randomly found other non-SMC blogs that I enjoy following, which led me to decide to sign up for ICLW this month so I could find some more.

I started this blog less than a week after my miscarriage in May. It initially started as a blog about loss and grief, then turned into a TTC blog, and now it’s become a pregnancy blog.  The one unifying theme throughout all these entries is the fact that I’m doing this as a single woman, and I try to remember to talk about that aspect of things as I write, though it can be surprisingly hard to remember to cover those feelings while writing about ultrasounds and IUIs! 

Because of when I started this blog, I never really covered much of anything that came before my miscarriage.  So I’ve decided to take this week to write about things like how I decided to pursue this path, choosing a donor, and talking a little about my first few IUIs when facing the diagnosis of diminished ovarian reserve. 

Welcome, and I’m looking forward to reading your stories, as well!

* * * * * * * * * *

The first time I can remember consciously deciding I was considering the SMC route was about 9 years ago, when I was a medicine resident, sitting in the ICU with a sick patient, chatting with Dr. C, one of the nephrology attendings.  She was also single, and I’m guessing she was not much older than I am now.  I’m not sure exactly how the subject came up, but I remember saying to her, “I thinking of adopting if I’m still single by the time I’m in my late 30s.”  Dr. C said, “I always thought the same thing, but I just never did it, and I guess it’s too late now.”  That was one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard, and then and there I vowed I would never let myself get to the point where I felt like it was too late to pursue my dreams.

But then suddenly I was 36, with no husband, no boyfriend and no baby.  I had dated – I tried a couple of online dating sites (and went on a lot of dates), joined clubs, took photography classes, traveled the world and accepted every blind date that was offered to me, with no success.  I know that many of my friends think I should have done more with the online dating, but I really hated it, and while I tried several times to make myself sign up for one of the sites one more time, I just couldn’t do it.  But I also couldn’t commit myself to going further with adoption, even though I still really wanted to be a mom. And it was then that I realized that I really wanted the chance to be pregnant, and my plans changed. 

I talked to my Gyn at my next appointment with her, and she was full of advice and information, since she herself had twins through IUI with an anonymous donor.  Armed with the names a couple of sperm banks, I started googling, and discovered the online world of SMCs.  I also told my parents, who were surprisingly supportive and excited, and my sister, who promptly asked if she could be my birthing coach when the time came.  I also told my closest friends, who encouraged me to go forward with my plans, and to hurry up already!

I had to put things off a bit, though.  I was still hopeful I would meet Mr. Right, and thought I probably had more time to wait before my eggs really started to age.  I also had some traveling to do.  I love to travel, and I just wasn’t ready to give that up in favor of being a mom.  My plan was to make it to all seven continents before trying to conceive, which would have led to me having my first IUI this past fall, after I turned 39. 

My visit to the RE accelerated those plans a little, and led to me knocking Australia off the list of travel destinations so I could start TTC in January of 2010 instead.  I think that part of the story deserves another entry, though, so I’ll stop writing for now, and start reading some new-to-me blogs!

Estate Planning

I’d never given much thought to wills and estate planning until my friend Heidi’s husband died unexpectedly and without a will almost 8 years ago. Even though they were married, the fact that he didn’t have a will meant that a horrible and stressful time was made even worse as Heidi had to deal with all the financial craziness that ensued. Her experiences made me realize that I needed a will, because I definitely didn’t want my parents to have to deal with all that if something happened to me. For a few years I used one that I created online, but about 5 years ago I met with an estate attorney and created a will that was designed just for me. She also brought up that fact that as a single woman, I have no one to take care of finances if I’m temporarily incapacitated, and that it would be up to my parents to make medical decisions for me, if I wasn’t able to do so myself. At her suggestion, I had her draw up a durable power of attorney, so my sister could pay my bills and act on my behalf if I couldn’t. I also now have a health care power of attorney, since I don’t want my parents to be the ones to ever have to make hard medical decisions for me, and a living will that puts all my wishes in writing, so that my sister will have further proof that I meant what I said when we had The Talk a few years ago.

Now that I’m pregnant, I have a whole other issue to think about – what would happen to Chiquitito if something happened to me? Last month I called up my wonderful estate attorney and made an appointment to meet with her this afternoon. In less than an hour we discussed guardians and executors (and discussed the qualities that each would need to possess), and wills and trusts, and how they work together. While it’s possible (and easy) to make a will that creates the trust when the will goes into effect, that does result in more paperwork and hassle for those left behind. The other option is creating a trust now, that’s separate from the will, which makes finances incredibly easy when the trust is needed. So we’re going to create a trust, and put my non-retirement assets in there (if you can call my condo an asset) and then make the trust the benefactor of my retirement accounts and the life insurance policy that my financial guy is working on for me. Of course, creating a trust up front is more work for me, but I think it’s worth it, if it might save my family extra work someday.

I really hope that none of this is ever needed. I fully intend to watch Chiquitito grow up, graduate from college and maybe even have some Chiquititos of his own some day. But life never goes exactly as expected, and I feel better knowing I’ll have a contingency plan in place, just in case.

A Trip to the NICU

Early this morning, around 2am, I got a call from LB’s husband; LB’s water had broken just a little while earlier, and they were at the hospital, prepping for an emergency c-section. LB was 34 weeks pregnant, just started her high-risk monitoring two weeks ago, and had already had an overnight stay at the hospital this week for low amniotic fluid and non-reassuring heart sounds. LB was really hoping that she’d be able to hold out at least another week or so, but her little girl had other plans, and decided, quite forcibly, that it was time for her to be born!

Despite the drama surrounding her delivery, this was the best c-section LB has had yet (last time the spinal didn’t work, and she pretty much felt the entire thing – thank goodness a different anesthesiologist was on call last night!) and she’s doing well. Little Lillian is just 4 pounds, 2 ounces, and looks like a little elf. While she’s having trouble regulating her temperature, she’s already breastfeeding like a champ. She’ll probably have to stay in the NICU for two weeks, but we’re really hopeful this will be an uneventful stay and she’ll be home very soon.

I got to hold her for a few minutes, and as soon as I had her in my arms, partially resting on my bump, Chiquitito started kicking me. Hard. Right where Lillian was resting. I wonder, is it too early for him to be feeling jealousy?

As I held Lillian, I couldn’t help but remember how upset I was when I first learned that LB was pregnant. I’ve felt guilty for that a lot the past few months, especially since this has been such a hard pregnancy for LB. But holding that sweet little girl, I could barely even remember how horrible I felt when I first had learned of her existence. It seems like a lifetime ago. I hope that I would be able to still feel that same joy, love and wonder when holding her if I weren’t pregnant right now; but I am so very thankful that I did not find myself in that situation today. I’m not sure that joy even begins to describe how I felt when holding Lillian while feeling Chiquitito kick inside me. It was definitely one of those moments I’ll treasure for the rest of my life.

A New Edict or Two

After I finished my blog post yesterday, I found more books.  And by more books, I mean a lot more books that I haven't read yet.  So I'm making a new rule for myself that I am NOT to buy another book until I've read at least 5 of my as-yet-unread physical books, and 2 of my Kindle books.  Not one single book.

Good thing I pre-ordered Shadowfever last week, so it doesn't count.

I'm also going to take more pictures.  I love photography (just about every picture I post on my blog is something I've taken, some better than others), but I tend to do it only when I'm on vacation, or with family.  So I'm going to try to take pictures more often.  I'm not committing to a picture a day just yet, but maybe a picture a week.  The picture on the right is from this morning, when the sun came up over the ice.  It's hard not to take pictures on a morning like this morning, though.  I found myself wanting to pull over on the side of the interstate to take pictures on my drive to work this morning; the ice covered snow and trees in the sparkling sun was just breathtaking.  The challenge will be when there's not much interesting to take pictures of readily available.  On the bright side, the subject for my weekly photography edict should longer be an issue, in say, about 110 days or so!

1/11/11

Today is 1/11/11- and the day that marks 111 days left until my due date. (Thanks to Erika for pointing that out when commenting on her own pregnancy.) What are the odds? Probably about the same as the odds that my IUI on 8/9/10 would result in this pregnancy!

Today is also the second day in a row I’ve had off, thanks to the snow and ice that hit our area on Sunday and Monday. I think our office could have been open yesterday (even though everyone was closed) but today the roads are just solid sheets of ice after the freezing rain we had overnight. It’s been grey and dreary, but the trees are so pretty all coated in ice. I hope it’s sunny tomorrow and I can get a few pictures in before it all melts, but I couldn’t resist taking a few from my back porch today. Ok, my back porch is also a sheet of ice, so I really took them from my back door. But close enough.

I have managed to get a lot accomplished the past two days, even though I’m not really sure it actually looks like I have done as much as I have. Yesterday I got the dining room completely finished, with everything put away, and managed to clean up the kitchen and living room as well. And so I do have a few home pictures to share of my dining room, with the new wall upstairs where the railing once was.

the box is my crib, waiting to be taken upstairs

(I swear, I don't tell the cats to get in the picture!)

dining room from the other side 

view from above

not a great shot of the room, but love Vagus in this picture

I’ve gone from project to project all day, as it hasn’t taken much to get me bored with anything. I’m in a relatively small space, but have managed to create a lot of storage with shelving and built-ins – storage that has been used to keep all sorts of things I don’t really need. I can’t count the number of books I’ve given away to Goodwill in the past few months (well over 150!), and yet my house is still overflowing with books I can’t bear to part with, so I’ve had to find some creative ways to store them all. I did manage to get rid of a few more paperbacks, cleaned out my bathroom cabinets of all toiletries and candles not used in the past 6 months, cleaned out the closet in the nursery and found another entire bag of perfectly good clothes I know I’ll never wear again that are going to Goodwill.

I’ve got my storage closet downstairs and the cabinets in my living room to tackle next, and then the next task is to get some storage organizers and sliding shelves/baskets for cabinets to make all the storage space more functional. I will find a way to make this condo accommodate me and baby without becoming a mess!

Best of all, I feel so much more relaxed about all I have to do between now and May. I haven’t actually been able to scratch much off my list, because no task is fully completed, but I’ve made a good dent in everything, which goes a long way towards making me feel like I’ve got things under control.

Slowing Down

For the past few years, I’ve had a busy schedule, and I’ve liked it. It’s not uncommon for me to be out of town, either for work or visiting friends, for 3-4 weekends in a row, and I’ll have weeks where I don’t get home before 10pm every night. All I’d need was a quiet weekend day at home every now and then, and I’d be happy.

That doesn’t work so well these days – since the week of Thanksgiving, I’ve been going nonstop, and I am exhausted. On top of that, my blood pressure has been a little high – not terribly, but unusual for me in the 130s/80s. And then I got a nasty cold. Which led to me getting a lecture from LB on how I’m not taking care of myself, and the high blood pressure is my body telling me I need to slow down. The worst part is, I know she’s right.

So this weekend was my last weekend of travel (I hope) until after Chiquitito comes. And it was a great weekend – I went to Dallas for a conference on Thursday and got home late last night. I saw lots of old friends, most of whom had no idea I was even considering trying to conceive, and so weren’t expecting to see me almost 24 weeks pregnant. That was a lot of fun! The hotel was crappy (I found a couple of dead roaches in my hotel room, and yet the front desk staff acted like I was inconveniencing them when I asked if someone would go to my room and get rid of them for me), but the conference was good. If only I hadn’t been coughing and sniffling my way through the entire thing, it would have been perfect.

The flight home was crowded, and everyone was grumpy and anxious to get in the air before the bad weather started to delay flights. I was in an aisle seat, but squished next to a huge guy in the middle seat, starting to get overheated and nauseated, and was really dreading the two and a half hour flight home. And then I heard my name called overhead with the instructions to bring my bags to the front with me – I got a first class upgrade! It’ll be my last, since I didn’t fly enough last year to get preferred status on USAir (for the first time in 4 years), but for a final upgrade, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I was able to stretch out and relax for the flight home.

I’ve spent today lazing around, watching bad TV and doing a little furniture rearranging in the nursery. I still have no idea how it’s all going to come together, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out. My place overall is really looking great. I should be at the point where I can post a few pictures, at least of downstairs, by next weekend. Maybe earlier, if the promised snow and ice really hits and I get tomorrow off work!

Did I Say That?

Today I was talking to a patient of mine who was singing the praises of her orthopedic surgeon, a wonderful man who has gone out of his way to help her. Half joking I said, “Is he single?” Her eyes lit up and she said, “Yes! And I think you two would hit it off! Do you want to come with me to my next appointment so I can introduce you?”

I laughed, rubbed my stomach and said, “Only if he has a thing for pregnant women!”

She was all excited to hear I’m pregnant, offered me happy congratulations and then said, “Do you still have a relationship with the father?”

Remember that post last week about sharing the news at work? Well, I forgot everything I wrote, and instead the words that came out of my mouth were, “Oh, I have no idea who the father is.”

Really.

I said that.

So then I had to explain, laughing at my own stupidity, while feeling my face turn bright red, “I mean, I used an anonymous donor; I went to a doctor to get pregnant.”

Luckily, my patient has a sense of humor!  And she likes Jennifer Anniston, because she referred to her statements when telling me how great she thought my decision to become a choice mom was.

**********

I have an OB appointment tomorrow morning, and in preparation I weighed myself today, so I could be shocked by the weight on the scale in private. According to my scales, and my somewhat faulty memory of what my last weight was, I think I’ve gained 4 pounds this month. Which is less than I expected, considering my recent milkshake cravings and the overeating that comes along with the holidays.

Now that I think about it – I’m more than a little constipated now, too. What are the chances that I’ll get relief from my constipation before my weigh in tomorrow? Because I’m sure I’d lose at least 2 pounds if I could just poop.