Several IV Bags Later

Good Lord. I just spent a good spate of time in the L&D ward where I delivered Missy. Hooked up to an IV dripping several bags of delicious hydration into my body. The Z0fran wasn't bad either. Took the edge off.

Nausea hit hard and fast late last week. I managed well for a few days but then it just accelerated. I couldn't keep anything down. Which put me in a downward spiral, dehydrating me further. No energy. Dry heaving the nothingness in my gut. Lying awake at night with gnawing hunger, dry mouth and so much nausea I could barely leave the bed. It was a very desperate feeling.

My OB admitted me right away. And the kind nurses pumped me with fluids. I feel almost human again.

I also had an ultrasound, which showed a measuring-spot-on embryo with a heartbeat of 124 at 6.5 weeks.

The daily Z0fran and the nightly Un1som tablets keep the harshest nausea away. I still have a constant low-grade nausea that hangs about me like a robe but I now I can manage it.

The whole experience has left me feeling like such a hypocrite. Here I try to be all natural-like but when push comes to shove I'm the one begging for the extra 2 ounces of Z0fran and am popping my nightly Un1som like it's Pez.

At least the wee one has cleared another hurdle.

Not so sure about momma.

First Day of the Season

For every parent who loves the mountains, this has got to be one of the most anticipated, most celebrated days on snow. Equal to (or, dare I say, better than) those bluebird powder days.

We'll consider the emphatic "Mo' ski! Mo' ski! Mo' ! Mo' ! Mo' !" as verdict that she loved it as much as we did.

First Hurdle Cleared

Second beta = 783

Up 139% from 48 hours earlier. Well over doubling.

They didn't test my progesterone again. Damn. Sometimes I want my RE back. I begged the nurse for another progesterone test. Told them it dropped with Missy the first few weeks of her gestation. So I am waiting to hear what they say.

They want me to schedule an ultrasound in the next few weeks. I LOVE my OB, but - again - am missing Dr. Stretch, my old RE. With him, I had a very set protocol: (1) initial beta, (2) second beta, (3) beta, (4) u/sound at 6.5 weeks to look for a heart beat, (5) follow-up ultrasound at 9.5 weeks to look for heart beta and fetal movement.

And you know how much I love a good plan.

Now I just feel left to wing it. So I am wondering: should I schedule an u/sound for 2 weeks out, which would put me at 7.5 weeks, where we may see a heart beat (please, please, please!)? Or should I wait (can I wait it out?) another week and hope to see a heart beat and maybe some movement at 8.5 weeks?

Thoughts and suggestions gladly accepted.

I know this all sounds a little bit desperate. Especially in light of my misgivings just a few days ago. Bottom line: I'll take another baby any day over another miscarriage, even though I have very little say in either matter at this point.

On a related night, I finally told Cowboy last night. That man's optimism never fails to inspire me.

"C'mon...aren't you just a little bit excited?" he asked after digesting the news.

"You know, honey, it just doesn't work for me like that anymore," I replied, "I have to take it one day at a time."

We read in silence for a few minutes.

"Okay, but what about some more girl names?"

That man. He never fails to make me smile.

But of course...

So the story goes: Last Sunday it was a gorgeous spring day skiing. Missy was in "ski school" and for the past two weekends has not even cried when I dropped her off. She's like, "See ya, Momma. Gotta go play at the snow table." (Well, she doesn't talk in sentences yet. But if she did, the look on her face indicates that this is what she would most likely say.)

Cowboy and I are taking a break in the deck chairs, facing the late winter sunshine. I think I'm cool with this one kid thing, I thought. My child is in day care. Date day with my husband.

Which means of course that on Monday I get a BFP.

Beta for 12 (?) dpo is 327. Which seems kind of high.

Well, it might be 12 dpo. I wasn't even using CBEFM this month because I ran out of pee sticks and somehow couldn't muster the time or energy to go to the pharmacy across town that carries them.

Progesterone is 37 without prometrium. Bagged that the back half of this cycle, too.

Trying not to be freaked out.
Trying to play it cool.
Trying not to get any hopes up, despite my post from yesterday.

No one knows except for my OB and the few of you still reading this blog. I haven't even told Cowboy yet.

I don’t even know what to title this post as I can’t believe I am posting this on an infertility blog

It is late. Or early. Depending upon how you look at the clock. I should be working or sleeping. But I can do neither. My mind is stuck. It has wrapped itself around a compelling feeling. Something that feels life altering to me – the proverbial fork in the middle of the road, if you will.

The thought is this: What is Missy is my only (live) child?

What if we choose to have her as an only child? Of course, my body may decide that for me. But what if we consciously hold up our hands and say, “That’s it. We’re done”?

Please don’t think this is frustration talking. We’ve been TTC#2 for just a few months.

It may be a little bit of fear talking. I don’t “do” pregnancy well: daily vomiting and extreme tiredness for the first four months; white-knuckled scans; a knee-knocking CVS due to my advanced maternal age and other factors; more daily tiredness for the last 2 months; and the biggest fucking swollen ankles you can imagine, which is not a good look on someone who just barely tops 5’1”. All worth it now that Missy has blessed our lives but…

…that was when I didn’t have a willful, spirited toddler and a growing business that needed constant tending. Just thinking about the prospect of keeping those balls in the air makes me heave a deep sigh of how-the-hell-will-I-manage-it-all-?

Then, it gets even more selfish. The skiing. The mountains. The latent yoga practice I yearn for desperately. The local, off-the-grid food movement that I ascribe to. The will to travel internationally as much as possible to experience different cultures. Could I do it all with two? Do I want to go back to baby-baby mode when my “baby” has already started to potty train?

Granted, my past experience with an infant was with that of a high-maintenance one. Missy is one of the great loves of my life. She has a sparkling personality and a wonderful spirit. But, good Lord, that child is strong willed. “Like her mother,” cowboy - and my parents - would likely say. It is true the apple does not fall far from the tree. But between the sleep – she still takes over an hour to get down and that is after bath, milk & books – and the I-must-be-attached-to-momma-at-all-times first year… I just don’t know if I have it in me.

Yes, I am sure #2 would be quite different from Missy. But I feel like I am still recovering from her babyhood and staring down the barrel of raising a spirited toddler. And my high-needs baby recovery time and biological clock are nearly at an impasse. Trust me on this.

I did a quick survey of my acquaintances & friends who share similar interests: skiing, travel, etc. Having a single child occurs at a pretty high rate. I look at their lives and how we want to live ours. I do the mental math of adding one more seat on an international flight to Portillo or Wanaka and I do a reality check. I KNOW! It’s horrible to quantify a child like that. Really. How fucking cold. But still. I do.

I don’t know what to do or how to tackle this or where this strong feeling even came from.

So, on this one…on this major one. I think I am going to turn to my yoga teachings and my infertility training: I’m just going to sit with it for a little while. Even though it is mightily uncomfortable. I need to sit with it and try to feel it both ways.

It seems like too big a decision not to.