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We heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time today. It sounded like a little train going at top speed- so different from my own whoosh whoosh whoosh of a heartbeat.
Tears pricked my eyes the minute she centered in on that elusive little train with the doppler. It flitted away from the doppler a couple of times and it took her several tries to get it to stay long enough for her to listen in and count. I'd brought a tape recorder, but Josh stood there in stunned silence while I motioned for him to grab it and start recording. I think he is slightly blown away by the whole thing.
According to the doctor, now that we've seen the ultrasound and heard the heartbeat, our miscarriage rate is less than 1%. She said that as far as she is concerned, we can tell the world now. And I guess this means we're having a baby! Although I'm not sure I can wholeheartedly believe that idea, with all the added information I've acquired from the Internet. But I may start to TRY to believe it anyway.
It also looks like my vomiting hasn't stopped me from gaining weight, and I put on a good 3 pounds since my last visit. Far better than the 4 pounds I'd lost before that. Now that I've discovered that chicken all the time keeps me from getting sick, I guess I'll be able to put on weight. I can't believe that 3 pounds can make all my pants and shirts not fit me, though. Getting dressed in the morning is a serious endeavor. Finding something that fits and doesn't highlight my growing abdomen is getting ridiculous, and I'm relieved to hear that I should be able to tell my work in the next couple of weeks. There are only so many sweater sets that I can wear!
I already broke down and bought maternity pants because not being able to breathe in the afternoons from my waistband cutting into me wasn't a pleasant experience. I love my new stretchy pants and I'm wondering why we don't have more clothes with this splendid elastic waistband! I would think that on bloated days these would be great!
And now I'm back to feeling that I've been blessed far more than I deserve. I keep waiting for something to go wrong, and these past few weeks have been an exercise in willing the days away. It is so hard not to want the first trimester to be done with as soon as possible, so I can go ahead with the business of believing that a baby might result from all this. I want to stop that, though, and maybe today's good news will help.
I'll never be pregnant again with my first baby in my first trimester. This is it. Any subsequent pregnancy will be different. I won't have the same fears and anticipation and desperate longing to know what will happen. I doubt we'll ever again have the dedication to take a picture of my belly every single week. I'll never keep as detailed of a journal, although I might try.
This is my one chance to experience this one time in my life, this one "trial by fire" pregnancy as Angie put it, and I'm going to stop worrying and start enjoying instead. Stinkin' happy is the way to be. Just remind me sometimes, okay?
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Thursday, May 25, 2006
a million thank yous!
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
Your messages were so sweet! They made me cry. But everything makes me cry these days. I cried on Sunday because the restaurant got my eggs wrong. Then I cried when the manager apologized. I also cried at work last week- in front of a senior associate. I can't wait until I am actually public at work, so that people will know that I'm not a freak, it's just the hormones. I also cry watching tv, in the car, walking on the street, and any time anyone does anything nice or not nice for me. It is slightly alarming, but I'm starting to get used to it.
Kathy R hit it on the nose with the due date.
Our Jewish baby is due on December 25th. I've been throwing around names like Baby Jesus, or Maria, or Holly, or Noel, but so far my Jewish in-laws haven't jumped on those options. I'm not sure why...
Between the bouts of nausea and vomiting under my desk at work, I walk around practically giddy with the news. We are so very happy and excited, it has been impossible to keep a secret. Josh has no patience and we regularly argue over who he can and cannot tell, with me holding onto the losing end of the battle.
The first few days after we'd found out, I could hardly believe it was true. I ran to the bathroom every 20 minutes, convinced that I was getting my period. But not long after, I was hit like a truck with the many symptoms. Nausea, migraines, acne, boobs like a stripper, bloating, constipation, hemorrhoids, sciatica, and vomiting. At this point, I am eating constantly to keep the nausea at bay, and the only thing I can keep down is chicken. That kind of throws off the whole vegetarian lifestyle I've been living since July, but substitutions won't cut it. Tofu, soy protein shakes, carbohydrates and vegetables are unacceptable. Meat is good. At this point, I'll do anything to keep myself from getting sick at work, so meat it is.
I have to admit, I think all of you held out on me. When I said I was thinking baby, I got nothing but positive reports. Where were the descriptions of the constipation? What about lying on the floor of your office crying and willing the nausea away? I thought you were my friends.
Regardless, I'm ecstatic beyond words. I'll take every symptom and be grateful for it. I'm just so stinking happy.
Your messages were so sweet! They made me cry. But everything makes me cry these days. I cried on Sunday because the restaurant got my eggs wrong. Then I cried when the manager apologized. I also cried at work last week- in front of a senior associate. I can't wait until I am actually public at work, so that people will know that I'm not a freak, it's just the hormones. I also cry watching tv, in the car, walking on the street, and any time anyone does anything nice or not nice for me. It is slightly alarming, but I'm starting to get used to it.
Kathy R hit it on the nose with the due date.
Our Jewish baby is due on December 25th. I've been throwing around names like Baby Jesus, or Maria, or Holly, or Noel, but so far my Jewish in-laws haven't jumped on those options. I'm not sure why...
Between the bouts of nausea and vomiting under my desk at work, I walk around practically giddy with the news. We are so very happy and excited, it has been impossible to keep a secret. Josh has no patience and we regularly argue over who he can and cannot tell, with me holding onto the losing end of the battle.
The first few days after we'd found out, I could hardly believe it was true. I ran to the bathroom every 20 minutes, convinced that I was getting my period. But not long after, I was hit like a truck with the many symptoms. Nausea, migraines, acne, boobs like a stripper, bloating, constipation, hemorrhoids, sciatica, and vomiting. At this point, I am eating constantly to keep the nausea at bay, and the only thing I can keep down is chicken. That kind of throws off the whole vegetarian lifestyle I've been living since July, but substitutions won't cut it. Tofu, soy protein shakes, carbohydrates and vegetables are unacceptable. Meat is good. At this point, I'll do anything to keep myself from getting sick at work, so meat it is.
I have to admit, I think all of you held out on me. When I said I was thinking baby, I got nothing but positive reports. Where were the descriptions of the constipation? What about lying on the floor of your office crying and willing the nausea away? I thought you were my friends.
Regardless, I'm ecstatic beyond words. I'll take every symptom and be grateful for it. I'm just so stinking happy.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
harder to write than I thought it would be
How many tests would it take for you to believe it?
For me, it took all those tests, plus a few more, boobs that were killing me, and a whole lot of nausea.
In the end, it wasn't until I saw this:
That I actually believed it.
170 beautiful beats per minute.
It is still early, I'm only 9 weeks along, but I couldn't keep something this big a secret any longer. I wish I knew the words to tell you how happy I am, how blessed I feel, and how badly I hope this little blob sticks.
Thank you for being so patient with my negligent blogging. I've learned that it is impossible to blog when you can't blog about the one thing that consumes you.
For me, it took all those tests, plus a few more, boobs that were killing me, and a whole lot of nausea.
In the end, it wasn't until I saw this:
That I actually believed it.
170 beautiful beats per minute.
It is still early, I'm only 9 weeks along, but I couldn't keep something this big a secret any longer. I wish I knew the words to tell you how happy I am, how blessed I feel, and how badly I hope this little blob sticks.
Thank you for being so patient with my negligent blogging. I've learned that it is impossible to blog when you can't blog about the one thing that consumes you.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
penance
I'm not sure what my penance will be for all this bloggy neglect, but I'll have to think of some way to make up for it. I know I've been mind-numbingly boring lately, and I'm working on it. This weekend I hope to get some good time set aside to write you a real update, with actual details and fun information. So don't give up on me yet!!!
Between my working hours and Josh's finals for the past two weeks, my house has been slowly disintegrating into a toxic zone. It was long overdue for a cleaning before we got slammed with work and school, and these days, it is downright pitiful. There are dust bunnies on the stairs that threaten to overtake me when I go upstairs. Leaves and twigs tracked inside by the dogs are growing in the corners of the downstairs rooms. If I sit on the couches before I leave for work, I find myself covered in dog hair that has also been accumulating with no one to vacuum the cushions. Laundry has become a triage situation, with underwear and socks thrown in at 10pm on Sunday nights when we realize we'll have nothing to wear that week.
The only thing I have the time or patience for is sheet changing and grocery shopping, and even that is not looking good as of late. Our neighbor asked to come over and use our mixer for a minute, and I couldn't think of an excuse fast enough, but I couldn't fathom anyone actually seeing this disaster that we sleep in. I say sleep, because we aren't actually living there. I'm spending far more of the day at work than at home, I've calculated it.
I can't believe more bloggers haven't mentioned the weather in New England these days, too. It is gloomy and dreary and freezing, and I walk around mumbling about April showers, my ass.
Anyway, all of this is a long way of asking for forgiveness, and this weekend I will put my blogging hat on and be better. I promise! I hope everyone is enjoying better springy weather than we are around here!
Between my working hours and Josh's finals for the past two weeks, my house has been slowly disintegrating into a toxic zone. It was long overdue for a cleaning before we got slammed with work and school, and these days, it is downright pitiful. There are dust bunnies on the stairs that threaten to overtake me when I go upstairs. Leaves and twigs tracked inside by the dogs are growing in the corners of the downstairs rooms. If I sit on the couches before I leave for work, I find myself covered in dog hair that has also been accumulating with no one to vacuum the cushions. Laundry has become a triage situation, with underwear and socks thrown in at 10pm on Sunday nights when we realize we'll have nothing to wear that week.
The only thing I have the time or patience for is sheet changing and grocery shopping, and even that is not looking good as of late. Our neighbor asked to come over and use our mixer for a minute, and I couldn't think of an excuse fast enough, but I couldn't fathom anyone actually seeing this disaster that we sleep in. I say sleep, because we aren't actually living there. I'm spending far more of the day at work than at home, I've calculated it.
I can't believe more bloggers haven't mentioned the weather in New England these days, too. It is gloomy and dreary and freezing, and I walk around mumbling about April showers, my ass.
Anyway, all of this is a long way of asking for forgiveness, and this weekend I will put my blogging hat on and be better. I promise! I hope everyone is enjoying better springy weather than we are around here!
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
one of the many reasons why I keep him around
Josh sometimes has to leave before I get up in the morning, and once in a while, he'll leave me a small early breakfast on my nightstand. Sometimes a bowl of dry cereal, sometimes toast with butter on it, sometimes just a coffee. It is a nice little surprise to wake up to a pre-shower meal!
This morning, he got up at 6am and was out the door shortly thereafter. I woke up to find toast with honey on it, resting by the clock radio. I found it before the alarm went off, because I had dogs climbing on my face to get a sniff at the plate sitting so close to the bed. Food in bed is a novelty to them, since we rarely eat upstairs.
I continued lounging in bed while I savored my toast, and the dogs sat two inches to my side, Murray staring intently at the toast as it went from plate to mouth, plate to mouth, Tango glaring at me with one paw up in the air, as he shook in silent protest.
I finished everything but a sliver of crust, and in an act of mercy, broke off two tiny pieces and shared them with each of the pups. I got up to take a shower, but knowing better than to trust them alone with the plate and crust while I was in the shower, I put them on the floor while I got ready for work.
The dogs were waiting in the hallway while I took a shower and brushed teeth and hair, and when I went into the bedroom to get dressed, they both stood at the edge of the bed and looked at me to lift them up. As I lifted Murray onto the covers, he jetted over to my side of the bed, grabbed hold of the crust, and took off to the other end of the bed while I stood there in stunned silence. It was faster than I'd ever seen him move! And Tango was standing there looking as if he was thoroughly impressed with his brother's work.
My yells got him to drop the toast, and as "punishment," he was put onto the floor to wait during the rest of the morning. He lay on his bed, resting his head on his paws and looking up at me with pitiful eyes. I'd long since moved the plate, and I finally gave in and put him back up on the bed with his brother to enjoy their last morning stretches on the down comforter before I left them for the day.
Would you believe that he made the SAME beeline for the nightstand again? Same speed, same spot! I guess some pups never learn. Or perhaps he did, and that one savor of sweet honey on toast outweighed my wrath.
This morning, he got up at 6am and was out the door shortly thereafter. I woke up to find toast with honey on it, resting by the clock radio. I found it before the alarm went off, because I had dogs climbing on my face to get a sniff at the plate sitting so close to the bed. Food in bed is a novelty to them, since we rarely eat upstairs.
I continued lounging in bed while I savored my toast, and the dogs sat two inches to my side, Murray staring intently at the toast as it went from plate to mouth, plate to mouth, Tango glaring at me with one paw up in the air, as he shook in silent protest.
I finished everything but a sliver of crust, and in an act of mercy, broke off two tiny pieces and shared them with each of the pups. I got up to take a shower, but knowing better than to trust them alone with the plate and crust while I was in the shower, I put them on the floor while I got ready for work.
The dogs were waiting in the hallway while I took a shower and brushed teeth and hair, and when I went into the bedroom to get dressed, they both stood at the edge of the bed and looked at me to lift them up. As I lifted Murray onto the covers, he jetted over to my side of the bed, grabbed hold of the crust, and took off to the other end of the bed while I stood there in stunned silence. It was faster than I'd ever seen him move! And Tango was standing there looking as if he was thoroughly impressed with his brother's work.
My yells got him to drop the toast, and as "punishment," he was put onto the floor to wait during the rest of the morning. He lay on his bed, resting his head on his paws and looking up at me with pitiful eyes. I'd long since moved the plate, and I finally gave in and put him back up on the bed with his brother to enjoy their last morning stretches on the down comforter before I left them for the day.
Would you believe that he made the SAME beeline for the nightstand again? Same speed, same spot! I guess some pups never learn. Or perhaps he did, and that one savor of sweet honey on toast outweighed my wrath.
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