New Year's Eve

One year ago today I was in Florida visiting my parents, the same place I am again this morning.  I had just had my first CD 3 (well, technically CD 2) ultrasound the day before, which is how I ended up standing in line at the pharmacy on New Year’s Eve with my dad, waiting to pick up my first Clomid prescription.  (That was definitely a surreal experience!)   I took my first Clomid pill on New Year’s Day 2010.  I was nervous, hopeful and excited.  And I had no idea what this year would bring.

I’m glad I didn’t know.  I’m glad I didn’t know that I’d feel so angry and bitter when the first two cycles didn’t work, and I had to take off a month of TTC to be able to attend a very dear friend’s baby shower in New York.  I would have hated knowing how quickly TTC would change my emotions and my perspective.  I’m glad I didn’t know that I would get a BFP on try #3 that would end in a heartbreaking miscarriage.  I’m glad I didn’t know how angry I would get at my pregnant patients who took their pregnancies for granted, smoking and eating whatever they wanted, not realizing what precious gift they were carrying.  I’m glad I didn’t know just how hard this year would be on me, because I’m not sure I would have had the courage to take that first pill on January 1st if I had.

But I didn’t know, and so I’ve also been able to enjoy the thrill of seeing baby boy parts on an ultrasound, the joy of feeling a kick or two while doing something unpleasant at work, the wonder of hearing a little heartbeat on my doppler every night.

But, at the same time, knowing from experience how things can go so wrong also has me terrified.  I'm not a natural worrier, so having this constant worry is foreign to me, and makes me worry even more.  What if something goes wrong with the pregnancy?  What if I have complications in delivery?  What if these worries are someone trying to tell me something?  What if.....?  The what ifs are driving me crazy.

I'm better than I was in August or September.  I am allowing myself to get truly excited about my pregnancy, and for the first time it's all starting to seem real.  But that worry still overshadows everything.  I accidentally hit myself in the stomach with a medicine ball yesterday, and I'm still poking and prodding and over-analyzing every twinge (being constipated and gassy at the same time certainly doesn't help matters!)  Would I have been as worried if I hadn't lost my first pregnancy?  Probably not.  But maybe.  Who knows?

I'm just going to have to accept it, becoming a mom means giving up ownership of my heart.  My heart now belongs to my son, and the worry won't ever go away, even when he's 40 years old with a family of his own.  I just need to find a way to get my non-worrying self to accept that this is a normal part of life, not my spidey-sense telling me that something wrong really is going to happen.  If I live my life worrying about the what ifs, I'm going to miss the wonderful things that are all around me here and now.

I guess I just found my New Year's Resolution, didn't I?  For 2011, I officially resolve to make sure that I enjoy life as it comes, and to not let worry about the future keep me from living in the moment.

Happy New Year, my friends!  I hope that 2011 brings us all love, joy and lots of healthy babies!

The SMC Topic at Work

I work in a fairly small town in the South, with very conservative coworkers and very conservative patients. So when I decided I was definitely going to pursue the SMC path, I told my staff right away. I was a little nervous of what their reaction would be, but I told them straight out: I’d tried to meet a man, and it hadn’t worked, and so starting in 2010 I was going to try to become a mom on my own. I was shocked at the positive response. Honestly, I told them a year in advance because I wanted anyone who was bothered by it to have time to find another job. And instead they were all thrilled for me, and just as anxious as I was for January 2010 to get here.

The interesting thing about being a doctor in the South (and maybe in any small town) is that patients are incredibly interested in my life. When they ask me how I’m doing, they really want to know. Many of them know where my parents live, how many nephews I have, and they all know I’m still not married. And so I even told a few of my older female patients about my plans, and they all responded with, “If I could have done that when I was younger, I would have!”

Now it’s at the point where I’m starting to have to tell patients, because many of them are being scheduled to come back in 4-6 months, when I’m anticipating I’ll be out on maternity leave. I wear a lab coat at the office, so my bump is not as obvious as when I don’t have a coat on, but most of them are now saying, “I was wondering, but didn’t want to ask!” (When you’re a diabetes doctor, patients always pay attention to your waistline!)

A few of my very conservative patients I told before I was showing, because I wanted to let them know before they came in and were surprised. And I discovered that I have to be very careful with the more conservative patients on how I tell them things. I actually had one couple that said, “Well, we have a problem with you getting pregnant outside of marriage, but we are really proud of you for doing the right thing and keeping the baby.” Since then I’ve learned to be very clear when I tell patients that I am very excited to be a mommy, and that this was something I deliberately chose to do.

I emailed my staff a very clear list of how they should respond to questions from patients, because I know they’re going to get some. And the funny thing is, that until today, the only time patients asked any of my staff if I was pregnant was before I’d told anyone that I was! My receptionist came back to my office today with a huge grin on her face and said, “Finally! Someone asked if you were pregnant! Mr. C asked as he was checking out today. And when I told him yes, he said that he didn’t know you were married. So I told him you weren’t, that you had made this baby all by yourself!” That’s something she came up with on her own, and it couldn’t have been more perfect! In fact, I’ve decided that is going to be my standard response from now on if a patients says anything about my marital status.

Here’s what I told my office staff in my email: “At some point, you’ll probably start getting questions from my patients about my pregnancy. You do not have to answer any of them if it makes you uncomfortable, I’m completely fine with you just telling them to ask me. But if you do want to respond, here are a few guidelines. You can tell patients that I’m not married, and I would prefer if you make it clear that this was a choice I made (and not an accident) – a simple ‘No, she decided she’d waited long enough and was ready to have a baby on her own’ will do. Do not answer questions about how I got pregnant, if they really want to know those details, they’ll have to be brave enough to ask me themselves, so just respond with, ‘You’ll have to ask her that question.’”

I’ve often thought about what people would think about me becoming a mom on my own, but I never really thought about the actual process of telling people once I was pregnant until I started to have to do just that. But I hadn’t found anything I was really comfortable with until today – I’m so glad I work with such wonderful people who can come up with great things for me to say! “No, I’m not married, I made this baby all on my own.” It’s just perfect.

Christmas Eve

My Christmas Eve post could probably read exactly like Tiara’s post today. Instead of feeling sad that I’m still alone and childless for yet another Christmas, I’m writing this with Vagus draped across my belly as Chiquitito kicks me (and probably the cat, too). I still can’t believe that this is my life.

Christmas this year is at my sister’s house. Right now she has her parents-in-law staying with her, along with her sister-in-law and her husband with their 15 month old daughter Ella, so my parents are staying with me. Being with family who are all happy for me, and surrounded by children crazy with excitement is a perfect way to spend Christmas. I had a wonderful evening, even when my sister’s father-in-law asked me if the donor sperm was just a ruse, and if I was instead really pregnant with Tiger Woods' love child!  Never a dull moment with my extended family, that's for sure.

Merry Christmas to you all!

Winter Solstice

Today, December 21st, marks my due date from my first pregnancy. I’ve been dreading this date for weeks, and at the same time hoping it would hurry up and get here so I could stop with the unpleasant anticipation.

My heart aches for the little baby who wasn’t meant to be. I was sure she was a girl (I didn’t do any genetic testing to confirm this), and after my miscarriage I named her Faith. I didn’t have much faith in anything at the time, but I felt like naming her Faith was a promise to myself that my faith would return.

As I type this, Chiquitito is moving around, kicking my bladder and generally making his presence known. It’s strange, mourning my lost girl while being so totally in love with this little boy who wouldn’t exist if she had stayed. I don’t know how to reconcile the two feelings, but I guess I don’t have to. The joy and sadness aren’t mutually exclusive, but it does feel weird, feeling both so intensely at the same time.

I can’t help wondering what things would have been like if all had gone well, and I was about to become a new mom right around now; Christmas would be very different this year. I have a feeling that these sorts of wonderings will stop once Chiquitito is born, since as soon as I meet him I know I won’t be able to imagine another baby in my arms instead of him. I am so grateful that I’m facing this day while already 21 weeks pregnant, but whenever someone asks me “Is this your first child?” my instinctive response is, “No, my he’s my second.” I never actually answer that way, but I always feel a little guilty when I answer, “Yes, he’s my first.”

I used to think that God sent us losses like these for a reason. The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve questioned that line of reasoning, and now, after my miscarriage, I just don’t believe it anymore at all. There’s no rhyme or reason to why these things happen, they just do. My Christmas wish this year is that no one ever has to lose a child again, at any stage in life.

 If only my wish really could come true.

The Weekend Before Christmas

I was up this morning and out the door way earlier than usual on a Sunday – I had patients to see at the hospital, and a football game that started at 1. I was a little late for the game (sorry, Liz!), but still had a good time, especially since the Panthers finally remembered how to play football (or maybe it was that the Cardinals forgot?) I’m not sure if Chiquitito enjoyed the game or not, but he definitely moved around a lot whenever the crowd got really loud!

The game was a nice break from the tarps, paper floor coverings and dust that are everywhere in my condo right now. The guys have been great, and overall have done a wonderful job at keeping the mess at a minimum, but really, there’s no way to avoid it. Thank goodness they’re almost done! All that is needed is the finishing touches tomorrow, and then I have a cleaning service coming on Tuesday to clean things up and it’ll be finished. And then it’s time to get to finish the home redecorating, and get started on really getting my house ready for baby. These pictures are the last I’ll post until everything downstairs is finally the way I want it - hopefully it will look as good as I imagine it will.

freshly painted new wall

new chandelier

With everything a mess, it’s hard to visualize it ever looking good, though I know I’ll feel differently by tomorrow afternoon when it’s back to just my stuff again. But that’s the easy part; it’s the task of getting things ready for baby that is a little overwhelming. My condo doesn’t have good storage in the bedrooms or bathrooms, and even the kitchen cabinets are short on space. Somehow I’m going to have to find a way to rearrange all my mess in a way that makes it easy to accommodate baby stuff while being easy to keep neat. Now is when I really wish I had someone to help me with projects like these. Putting together my nursery should be fun, but also comes with its challenges. Since the nursery was originally an office, I’m going to have to figure out how to make a built in desk and bookshelves work with the baby theme. All good problems to have, I know, I’m not really complaining – just writing it all down helps me put it all in perspective. I think I’m going to take the time to put every project that needs to be done in a list, so that I can at least have the satisfaction of scratching each one off my list as I get it done. If I’m lucky, I might have them all done by May.

My parents are coming on Thursday to stay with me over Christmas, though we’ll probably be spending most of our time over at my sister’s house. I love my parents, and I’m looking forward to spending time with them, but I’m also dreading it. My mom has been weird lately – that whole issue deserves a post of its own that one day I might be brave enough to write it – which could make for a potentially difficult weekend. At least I’ll be around my nephews for most of that time, which should make up for any unpleasantness.

Now I really should be working on wrapping presents and cleaning up my stuff that has accumulated in my living room since most of the rest of my house has been unusable. The only bad thing about the tarps going away is that a wonderful source of entertainment for my cats will be gone, too. I’m not sure how I’m going to sleep without the sounds of crinkling plastic in the air every night.

And as an aside, the ASPCA commercials should be outlawed. Don’t they know the effect they have on hormonal pregnant women?

Longest Ultrasound Ever

My appointment was at 8 o’clock this morning, but they were late getting started, so I didn’t get into the room until about 8:15.  Then the tech couldn’t get the DVD recorder to work, so we had to switch to the other room.  Finally I had a probe on my belly about 8:30, and it was there until about 9:25! 

First, my placenta has moved and the previa is resolved completely!  Yay!  I also have a tiny little fibroid, and a new cyst on my left ovary.  Yes, this is what she looked at first, MY anatomy, while I was teased with little glimpses of moving arms and legs. 

Finally she focused the probe on Chiquitito, and we could see him kicking around, and waving his little hands, and at one point she got a great shot of him making swallowing, suckling and even yawning.  Unfortunately, it was burned onto a DVD that doesn’t seem to allow me to transfer the files into something I can edit or put online to share.  I was really looking forward to sending a little bit of the movie to my parents and family, but I guess they’ll just have to wait!  (Unless someone out there knows how I can copy the movie onto my computer, in which case – please email me!!!)  The tech was great, pointing out all the anatomy in great detail and giving a running commentary the entire time.  She was so busy talking to me, though, that she only printed out two pictures for me the whole hour I was there.  And I can’t share those, because my scanner is currently behind a mound of furniture and two plastic tarps.  So no pictures of any kind to share, but I can tell you he’s pretty damn cute!

So why was I there for so long?  The only thing they really needed after the first ultrasound was a better view of a few parts of his heart, and again he would not cooperate.  He stayed facing my back the entire time, which made it hard to see the arteries they needed to see, even when I rolled back and forth on the table, and when the tech jiggled him around with the probe.  But finally we got all the necessary views, and all looks normal.  I think it wore him out, though, because he’s been quiet all day, until after dinner tonight, when he decided to nudge my bladder a few times with his toes.

Oh, and he’s got long legs and is measuring a full week ahead.  I think he might have inherited that from his donor.

Feeling the Love

Yesterday, my sister and her family drove into town so I could take their annual Christmas pictures at the park near my house.  I walked across the street to meet them, and as I did, I heard a little voice yelling my name.  When I made it to the sidewalk, I saw my brother in law holding D, and as soon as he saw me, he set him down and D came running down the sidewalk yelling my name.  A guy passed me right before D got to me and said, “He loves him some Shannon!”  LOL  And then D hurtled into my arms and gave me a huge hug.  I love being an auntie!

Not the official family pic - but it makes me smile!

I think I’ve mentioned before that I adopted my younger cat Zaphira, from the Humane Society when she was 9 months old.  I chose her because she sat up when I came in the room and watched me as I walked around talking to the other cats – I think she knew I was the one that was going to take her to her forever home.  The deal was sealed when I saw how brave she was around the other cats, even the ones who hissed at her.  Since I had Vagus at home, that was important to me.  Unfortunately, she’d been at the shelter since she was just a few months old, and that limited human interaction made her nervous around people.  At the shelter she let me hold her, but once I brought her home, she rarely would let me pick her up.  At first, the only time she felt comfortable coming to me for affection was when I was on the toilet (I guess I’m not a threat with my pants around my ankles!) but gradually she’s become braver and braver.   It took two years, but last night, as I was nestled in my wonderful pregnancy pillow, she jumped up on the bed and immediately climbed onto my stomach, where she proceeded to curl up for a long winter’s nap.

I’d like to say that she’s sensing the pregnancy hormones and wants to be close to Chiquitito, but I’m pretty sure it’s the fact that I keep the house at 67 degrees at night these days that made her seek me out for warmth.  Whatever the cause, I’m so happy my sweet little kitten is getting brave enough to cuddle!

Construction Update – the drywall is up!  And the drywallers are amazing – they cleaned up their mess and the mess left by the a/c guys (including dusting my bedside table!).  We’ll see how things look after the sanding tomorrow – I’m anticipating a mess, no matter how neat they are.  To make the drywall guys even better, the boss is picking up my chandelier for me and delivering it when he stops by to inspect the work tomorrow afternoon.  I’d planned on picking it up myself on Friday, but discovered the box won’t fit into my car! 

Hopefully I’ll have more good construction updates this week – and I’ve got another ultrasound on Tuesday.  I’m going back so my perinatologist can get a better look at the pulmonary artery (he wouldn’t cooperate at my last scan) and to check on my placenta previa.  Let’s hope it’s moved!

CD 5

Thanks to all of you who left such wonderful and insightful comments on my last post. They were truly perfect. And now I’m going to try to continue my blog as usual, though it’s not really as usual, knowing Paige is grieving for her son tonight. But as many of you pointed out, we need to be able to share the bad and the good, and we need balance on this road we’ve chosen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My construction is progressing right on schedule. The building permit now has a nice shiny sticker on it from the county inspector, approving the work thus far. The scaffolding is now a semi-permanent part of my dining room, the electrical wiring is all in place, and instead of open spaces between the framing, I have insulation. Tomorrow, the dry wall guys start, and the dust really begins!

The leak in my downstairs bathroom ceiling is fixed, and just waiting for the drywall repair to be done, then my ceiling will finally be leak and hole free. The leak upstairs is another story. It took 5 phone calls and a “I’m a single woman who is almost 5 months pregnant and I just can’t afford the cost of another delay because you couldn’t get your act together!” to get them to finally schedule the repairs for today, instead of next week, like they wanted to do. I now have 3 holes in my bathroom ceiling upstairs, which is just a little bit creepy. They have one more thing left to do, then that will be fixed, too, and ready for the dry wall guys to fix the mess there as well.

So far all looks to be on schedule for a finish date of next Friday. I’m still expecting it to take a little longer, but the good news is that they will be done by Christmas! I can not wait to finally have my condo the way I want it to be – to live somewhere that finally feels like a place I want to call home.

On a completely unrelated note - I had a patient's three year old daughter give me a hug today, because she thought I was the doctor from her favorite Sesame Street book.  How absolutely heart melting is that?