I’m ashamed to admit this…

This is a hard post to write.  It’s probably going to make me sound like an ungrateful, selfish, jealous b!tch.  And maybe all that’s true, but I’m trying not to be and what’s that expression? The first step is admitting you have a problem?  Well here I am, admitting it.  And it’s making me feel horrible.

Let me back up.  I had a miscarriage back in August.  At the time I got pregnant we weren’t technically trying but we were ttthhhiiiisss close to starting to try so I was over the moon excited.  Of course that meant I was devastated when I miscarried, even though in many ways I was lucky because it was very early on.  Based on what all the doctors told me, I thought we would give a go again, and just like that, boom, we’d be pregnant again.  So each month, I drag Rob into the bedroom when I think the timing is right.  Then for two weeks I hyper-analyze every potential “symptom” until I convince myself this is the month.  Of course, that means I’m absolutely devastated each month when my period does show up, just like clockwork.  I tell myself each month, “Don’t get your hopes up” and each month, that is exactly what I do.

It’s like a sickness, I truly can’t seem to stop myself.  Of course this is putting totally unnecessary pressure on Rob, on me, on my body, on things that just can’t be controlled.  I’m actually tearing up in anger at myself right now thinking about it.  It’s been 9 months of hopes and disappointment.  Two weeks of waiting for the prime day to get busy and then two weeks of reading pregnancy blogs, monitoring my moods, my appetite, my body, my energy level – you name it – and then a day or two of crushing disappointment and self-doubt.  Can I really get pregnant?  Why isn’t it working?  Are we doing something wrong?  Am I ovulating properly?  Is something wrong with me?  <—Notice how much self-blame there is?  I rarely think, what if Rob’s sperm count is low or anything like that.  No, I focus all that negative energy directly on me.  Like I’ve deemed myself the person who must take all the weight of this problem.

So here’s what happened yesterday.   I very innocently received an email from a close friend of mine saying she was pregnant.  I knew they had been trying and I’m so so happy for her and her husband.  But what was my first reaction?  I saw the darkest shade of jealousy-green that I have ever experienced.  Luckily, I was at work, so on the outside at least, I managed to hold it together.  But on the inside, I turned into the brattiest child on earth.  If I could have, I would have thrown myself on the ground and kicked, screamed and cried.  I had this non-stop cycle going around in my head that sounded so jealous, so mean, so freaking ungrateful for my life, that I was actually horrified. green-eyed-monster

By the time I got to the car that night, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.  I was crying the big weepy tears, gasping for air.  It was really a combination of being so painfully jealous of someone that I love and am truly happy for and being really mad at myself because I know I need to grow up.  Of course those thoughts would send me down a self-shaming spiral of thoughts about how I even thought I was fit to be a mother when I was behaving this way and how I was so ungrateful for the many blessings I already have.  Ugh, what an ugly cycle.

On the way home, I couldn’t even hear the radio, my thoughts were so loud.  I actually cancelled meeting up with a mutual friend for a Run-Bike-Run because I didn’t think I could manage to show pure happiness at the news.  At the time I thought it made me a bad friend, but now, as I’m writing this, maybe it was me being a good friend because at least I wasn’t sharing my caustic mood.

Instead I drove to the store with every intention of buying whatever it is a person uses to take a bubble bath.  I thought this would relax me.  Here’s why that is ridiculous.  I hate baths of any kind.  We have a huge bath tub in our master bathroom and when they were building it I tried several times to convince the builder to take it out and put in a bigger shower.  The tub has never been filled.  Yet, here I was, a green-eyed monster, looking for bubble bath.  Except I had no idea what to buy, so I ended up with this: mr bubble

Rob got a big kick out of this when he saw it.  To his credit, he knew right away what I had been trying for.  Needless to say, I didn’t end up taking a bubble bath.  Because I also found this at the store.  photo 3 (2)

I’m a little embarrassed to say that I bought it and baked it and in some ways, it was exactly what I was looking for.  I didn’t want some fancy pastry or some homemade cake.  I wanted sugar and fat and chemicals and something that was as awful for me as I was feeling.  Does that even make sense?

Luckily, by the time I had baked them and made dinner, I was pretty much over my pity party.  Today, I’m still feeling that twinge of jealousy but I’m not overwhelmed by it.  And I can really feel the happiness for my dear friend that she deserves.  Congratulations to them! photo 4 (1)

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Everything Changes, Part 2

This is the second part (hence the title, duh) of a painful thing that happened recently.   This may be a graphic post, so if you aren’t interested in hearing the inner workings of my body, stop reading now. 

I left off just before getting wheeled off to get an ultrasound.  Let me be honest.  I was scared.  I knew exactly what was happening.  I had no real thoughts that this might just “turn out ok” but yet, here I was, scared poopless.  All I can say is, thank god for Rob.  He really is my rock at times like this. 

They wheeled me to what I can only assume was some type of maternity wing.  I was nearly deserted.  It even had the flickering fluorescent light and the creepy janitor slow mopping.  Sometimes I wonder if my life is some terribly boring version of the Truman Show.

The nurse that did the ultrasound was very quiet.  They did the exterior one first and she said almost nothing.  Then when she was going to do the internal one, she went and got a coworker.  As Rob put it, can you imagine what must have happened to make it policy that they have a second person in the room for the internal ultrasound?  Luckily the second nurse was really nice.  I say luckily because the internal ultrasound was where things got super scary.  The first nurse is clicking away and clucking to herself.  She never says anything to me.  We found out later that they aren’t allowed to say anything to the patient, but man, that makes it sooo much worse.  Then the first nurse turns to the observing nurse and says, “I can’t find the left ovary.  Can you help?”  Umm, what?!?  I found out much later (like two days later when I called my own doctor) that it is completely normal to not have one ovary visible, but at the time all I could think was about how f’ed up my body was.  And how I was totally broken.  And how I’d never be able to have children.  It just all crashed around me.  I started to slow cry.  Which is really the saddest kind of crying.  It usually means you’ve totally lost it.  The observing nurse realized how scary they were making everything and began to explain what they were seeing (almost nothing – no signs of life) and what they were doing.

After the ultrasound was complete, they wheeled me back into the hall and the nicer nurse came and gave me a hug and told me it was going to be ok.  She basically repeated all the stats I had read online, but somehow it actually helped.  And then she said, “And what it really means, is that tonight you can go home and have a glass of wine.  Or two.”  That got a nice chuckle out of me.

We went back to the ER room and waited and waited and waited.  Finally the doctor came back and told us what we already knew.  She really didn’t seem to know much more than I could have figured out on my own, but hey, I have insurance, so let her tell me.  Funny side note, when I asked her if it was cool if I had that glass of wine, she gave me the weirdest look and mumbled something about how I wasn’t pregnant so I could do what I want.  I thought it was really weird, but when I asked Rob about it later he said I sounded like a total alcoholic.  Umm no.  I just had the toughest day of my life and thought a little numbing wine would do the trick.  Besides, it wasn’t even my idea…

The rest of the night was fairly uneventful.  We went home.  We tried to eat out and realized we were both just tired and wanted to go home.  I bled a lot.  I cried a little.  We held hands.  I was reminded a million times that I am lucky to be married to such a sweet and compassionate man. 

Monday is where things got painful.  The cramping was unbearable.  All morning I was just dying.  I don’t know what contractions feel like, but I have to suspect these were close.  I actually read on the internet (reliable source, I know) that you can have actual contractions while miscarrying.  Maybe I was.  Maybe I wasn’t.  All I know is it hurt.  I actually was screaming out loud in pain.  Rob agreed to stay home the morning with me because we had the maid and contractors coming to the house and I just didn’t think I could deal with it all.  I did a lot of sleeping that day.  I never changed out of my pajamas.  I felt like I was wearing a diaper.  It was not my best day.

But things are getting better, day by day.  I tried to looking at the miscarriage forums and they just sucked.  People were so darn depressed.  I mean, I’m sad.  This is not what I wanted at all.  I was really excited about being pregnant.  But I’m ready to try again.  Some of these people… I don’t know, they were just depressed.  Really, no judgment on them, but that’s just not me.

So where am I today?  I find myself a little angrier, a little more easily.  And I’ve cried at least once a day since Sunday, sometimes for almost no reason.  And I oscillate between thinking this is not really that big of a deal (hey 20% chance this could happen) and thinking it is the biggest deal (I just lost a baby).  But mostly, I just want to try again.  If we are going to have fertility issues, I want to know sooner than later.  If the next one is going to work out, I want that baby in me right now.  I think maybe this will make me appreciate it all more.  Maybe I will make it more of a priority in my life next time, instead of trying to make a pregnant Emily fit into the old unpregnant life.  And the timing will be better next time, even if next time is a month from now.  I won’t be training for a triathlon.  Hudson will be one month older, and hopefully that much closer to not pooping in the house.  I’ll be that much more ready to tell people we’re trying, and that much less anxious to tell people when we’re pregnant (I only told three people besides Rob and that was the three hardest conversations I have ever had).

Each day is just a little bit better.  And each day gets me one step closer to where I want to be.  As they say, life is the journey, not the destination.

Everything Changes, Part 1

This is such a hard post to write.  Perhaps that’s why it has taken me a few days to even start it.  I guess the only place to start is at the beginning.  Hopefully, putting this down for some sort of permanent record will help me move past this.  This may be a graphic post, so if you aren’t interested in hearing the inner workings of my body, stop reading now.

It started on Saturday.  I went to the bathroom and there was a little bit of spotting.  I was instantly horrified and sure of what was going on, but I kept telling myself to stop freaking out.  But I knew.  I just knew.  As is usually my plan, I decided to just wait until something forced to me face the reality – either things would get worse, or they wouldn’t.  And then I’d “know.”  But I already knew.  I just didn’t want to know.

On Sunday morning, I woke up and I was full on bleeding.  Clots and all.  Like a heavy period, only worse.  Luckily, I knew enough to beg Rob to go to the store and buy me some pads.  I haven’t had those in the house since I was a kid, but they tell you not to use tampons.  He so kindly obliged.  I think he was worried, but he’s such a trooper.

I begged him to take me out to breakfast, just to get out of the house.  We went to the Ale House.  Rob actually suggested that we go to Bistro Blanc, but I’ve been avoiding that place since I found out I was pregnant.  I knew they would force me to tell them that I was preggers and now it was even more horrific to tell them that I was potentially in the process of losing said pregnancy.  Eek.  I just couldn’t do it. 

So we go out to breakfast and I go off to the bathroom and by the time I came back, I told Rob, “We have to call the doctor.”  Because it was the weekend, I had been avoiding calling the on-call doctor.  I kept thinking that this wasn’t urgent enough.  I mean, I was just miscarrying.  Ok, so it sounds totally stupid now, but at the time, I didn’t want them to think that I was just being one of those stupid first-timers that freaks out about everything.  But it was becoming abundantly clear that I did not know what I was doing and really wasn’t sure how I should be taking care of myself.  So I called.  And then the back pressure started.  Just like when I get my period, but so much worse (noticing a theme yet?).  I actually called the on-call doctor from the parking lot.  She called back in minutes and told me that they recommend that I go to the ER and get a complete once-over.  So we, very calmly, went home, walked the dogs, grabbed some water and snacks, changed into comfortable clothes.  It was all a little surreal.  Hey the doctor said we’d probably have to wait.  I wanted to be prepared.

At this point, I figured there was no real possibility that things would “work out for the best.”  I just wanted to get looked at, told what to do and make sure I wasn’t f’ing up my body for the next time I wanted to try making babies.  In the course of the hour or so that we were in the waiting room, I started to really bleed.  I was going through more than one pad an hour.  Yikes.  It was like I could never really wipe it up.  I actually used up all the toilet paper in one of the bathrooms.  Oops.  Trying to do the right thing, I let the woman at the front desk know.  She was such bi-atch.  Oh my!  Like I was ruining her day for letting her know that the tp was out.  Well, I’m sorry. 

Finally, a nurse called us back.  She was taking my vitals and asked, “Was this a planned pregnancy?”  We awkwardly mumbled something like, “Sort of, I guess, maybe.”  So she beams back, “Well congratulations!!”  Umm, WHAT?!?  How freaking insensitive!  I mean, here I am, full-on miscarrying, with really no indication that it could be anything else and she’s congratulating me?  What?  She just didn’t read enough of my chart of why I was there.  I very rudely (ok not that rudely, I’ve certainly been worse), said, “Um what are you congratulating us on?  We are here because I’m most likely losing the baby.”  She sputtered a few apologies and something about “let’s look on the bright side.”  I mean come on.  COME ON!

Eventually, they wheeled me to off to do the ultrasound.  I think I’ll pick up the story there tomorrow.  There is really only so much I can share in one sitting…  So if you want to hear the thrilling end to this terrible tale, tune in tomorrow. 

Week 6

Is this the week where I start feeling pregnant?  According to all the articles I’ve read (ok, just thebump.com and other people’s blogs) this is the week that I should start having horrible morning sickness, I should be so tired I can’t make it through the day and I should be moody enough to appear to need meds.  But yet I feel… blah.  None of these things. 

I know this will come back and bite me in the ass soon enough, but I really thought I would feel more pregnant by now.  I have very few symptoms, other than my once-a-week crying over absolutely nothing outburst.  And really there is a 50/50 shot that might have happened before I was pregnant, so it’s not the most noticeable of pregnancy symptoms.  I am not saying I want to puke all day and be in total misery, but it might be nice to have a little something going on.  Everything you hear talks about pregnancy in one of two ways: 1) It is this horrific period that you barely make it through, but for the sake of society bending over backwards to recognize the sacrifice you making and congratulate you on your ability to let your eggs and ovaries do exactly what they were designed to do, or 2) This amazing blessing that a woman feels she has been given like a free pass into some fancy club.  Like she should be thanking the heavens and the earth for the chance to get to do this very thing, while joy and rainbows burst out of her heart, or more appropriately, out of down there.  Well, I’m not buying it.  Listen, I’m plenty excited about being pregnant – and scared to death – but it sure doesn’t feel that special yet.  I’m sure that’s going to change.  Or at least I keep telling myself that.  And I guess it is some miracle and all, but frankly, it all just seems too easy.  Like most things in my life, anything that comes too easily automatically makes me appreciate it less.  I don’t want to be that way.  I want to think I’m really putting my body to the test and working *so hard* to grow this thing.  But so far, it just seems like any other day…  Like I said, in a month or two, I’m sure I will be regretting this post.

So now we move on to the more interesting things… like reading my thoughts on a very specific set of questions that I will continue to do throughout this pregnancy.  I’ve changed them up this week because after looking at last week, I didn’t think those questions were really that interesting, especially since most of them won’t change that much throughout the pregnancy.  So here is the new and revised set of weekly recap questions:

How far along? 6 weeks yesterday.  The baby is the size of a pea.  I told Rob that last night and I’m not sure he believed me.  He seems to think we are just going to go along no baby, no baby, no baby, bam! pregnant belly with full grown baby inside.  Well, he’s in for a big surprise.

How am I feeling?  Pretty normal.  Which is weird, right?

Total weight loss/gain We might as well take ‘loss’ out of that because there is no way this woman is ‘losing’ anything, except maybe her mind.  But really, weight is holding as steady as ever, which is to say +/- 3# on any given day, depending on what I ate for dinner and if I have been to the  *ahem* bathroom yet.  Oh the details I share with you about my life.

Exercise for the week I have been running a bit more now that I got the heart rate monitor.  I feel like I can safely run without depriving my baby of necessary oxygen.  And yesterday I called the nurse to ask how vital it was that I stick to exactly 140 and below and got fairly good news that it was ok to go up to as high as 150 *gasp* as long as I then let my heart settle back down.  So it means I’m running slower than I ever even thought possible.  But all in the name of baby growing, right?  Yesterday I did a very nice bike/run which consisted of a lot of biking (easy to keep a low HR most of the time) and very little running with lots of walking in between.  I just can’t keep my HR low enough when I run, but I’m trying to keep my head up.

Sleep  I have been going to bed a whole half an hour earlier than usual.  I get up usually once a night to pee, but otherwise, I’m happy to get my 8+ hours of sleep a night.  Hey, I need all the help I can get in terms of beauty sleep!

Cravings  None really.  I’m just letting myself eat a little more junk food than I usually do.  If it’s 4 o’clock and I’m hungry and all I have to eat is a cupcake, then hey, a cupcake is going to end up in my belly.  Oh and we did eat banh mi twice last week and one round of ill-advised banh mi nachos.  (Don’t ask.  Just don’t do it.) But this was mostly because I bought the ingredients to have it one night and then didn’t want it to go to waste the second night.

Aversions Maybe?  Last night I made roasted chicken for dinner.  It was a beautiful bone-in breast that I got at the farmer’s market on Sunday.  By the time it was done, I just didn’t want it.  I was not running to the bathroom to gag.  I just didn’t want to eat it.  The fistful of peanut butter pretzels I ate before dinner may have had something to do with this though so I’m not counting this as a true aversion.  We’ll see.

Baby items bought/received None. I still don’t want to jinx things, so I’m holding out until we hear that baby’s heartbeat.

Goals Keep running.  Keep biking/swimming.  Keep feeling awesome.  Mostly, I have been trying to do two things: 1) Keep off the scary internet where they tell you all the horrible things that can and might go wrong.  2) Be nicer to Rob to make up for all the hormonal craziness that occasionally rears it’s head.  It’s bound to get worse before it gets better.

Best baby moment  Not sure this is a moment, but telling two living souls besides Rob has been truly rewarding.  I told my mom, which was wonderful and freeing.  And I told one of the chefs at work, because I can’t keep my mouth shut and I just needed to tell someone.  Telling her has been surprisingly amazing because she is literally the most positive and upbeat person I know.  It actually helps get me excited, which these days, is really appreciated.

So that’s it.  I’m excited, but not.  I’m feeling pregnant, but not.

The Art of the Slow Run

This weekend I went out and got a heart rate monitor.  Turns out, I have no idea what 140 beats per minute feels like.  And since that is the maximum gold standard for how fast my pregnant heart should be beating, I figured it was time to suck it up and go buy one.  I went to Road Runners and usually the sales people are extremely nice and helpful.  This time things were a little different.  It may have been because I asked the salesman for a “cheap HR monitor that doesn’t do anything fancy.”  But seriously, did he have to laugh out loud for a full minute?  I meant that’s just rude.  It was an honest description of what I wanted to buy.  After his laughing fit, he did manage to patiently describe the features of their three available models and as I am often tempted to do, I chose the one in the middle.  How’s that for sitting on the fence?  Actually I chose that one because it promised to beep at me when I reached certain heart rates.  What they don’t tell you is that you can’t hear the beeping if your TV is turned up to max volume and your feet are smacking the belt of the treadmill.

When I got home I had to try out my new toy.  It doesn’t matter that I even having a HR monitor, it’s still a new toy.  I slapped that puppy on and got ready to run.  Of course, that meant going up the stairs.  Just one flight of stairs put my heart rate at almost 100!  That should have been my first clue that 140 is a very slow heart rate for someone that is used to exercising.

For my first treadmill run (did is week it is over 100 degrees outside?), do one of my old standby runs.  It is a 5k run of varying speeds and I have done it a million times.  So I thought I would be able to do it if I kept the pace a little slower than my usual.  No such luck.  Every minute or so, I would reach 150 and have to slow down and walk.  As soon as I got it down, I’d start jogging again and up it would shoot.  Each time I was able to run a little less before maxing out.  Needless to say, it was a short run.  It’s just too darn annoying to run like that.

On Monday, I decided to give it a go again, this time with a little more smarts up my sleeve.  I turned the treadmill on loooow and just jogged.  Now I have always joked that my running is never more than a jog, but it turns out there is actually a speed slower than my normal jog.  It is my pregnancy jog.  On the positive side of things – because pretending to be positive is the only thing that will get me through this – I was able to run forever.  I ran for 45 minutes and felt like I could just keep going.  I never got tired.  Which is probably the point.  Duh Pregnant Lady! Duh!

Watch Out! Crazy Preggo Lady Coming!

Complete meltdown mode yesterday.  Can I just remind everyone that we are in the middle of a heat wave here?  I know this happens every year, but every year it takes me by complete surprise.  So here we are on day 5 or 5 million of 100+ degree days.  I’ve been trying to modify my workouts but I just really do not know what I’m doing.  Do I try to keep my heart rate below 140 or does that not really matter as long as I’m not exercising to the point of exhaustion?  Is it ok to exercise (slower) because I’m not new to this and have been doing it for months straight?  I’m I causing birth defects – horrible ones, like the lungs developing out of the fetus- just because I want to get a 2 mile run in?  Well, frankly, I have no idea.  Currently, I am taking the fence-sitter approach.  Still exercising, going slower.  Heart rate goes up, I freak out, walk a little, call my self a wuss and then start running a little slower.  Hey it’s a new world for me.  I actually get to appreciate my dog-slow running.  Actually, dog-slow is not an appropriate term for it, since Dingo trots along next to me in the most leisurely fashion and occasionally looks up at me as if to say, “This is nice, but you know we could run, right?”  Well, what can I say?  I’m a slow runner.

So back to the heat wave.  It’s really throwing me for a loop.  I’m already trying to go slower and do less, but now I have to factor in 100% humidity (I still don’t understand how it can be 100% without raining), 100 degree temperatures and the fact that I am growing an alien inside of me.  I ran on the treadmill on Tuesday.  The running was ok, but the wildly fluctuating heart rate monitor only served to completely freak me out and make me realize that I actually have no idea what a heart rate of 140 beats feels like.  So yesterday I decided to go to the pool.  I would do a quick mile, I wouldn’t overheat and everything would be hunky-dory.  But, despite my best plans, the pool was hot.  I guess the 100 degree days are working their magic there too.  As I was driving to the pool, I realized I was pretty hungry.  This has been happening to me a lot lately.  I mean, I usually have a little space in my belly for some cookies or any other sweet treat that might get doled out at work, but lately I’ve been finding that I am hungry and it comes on out of nowhere.  I mean, should I be ready to eat my arm just because its been 2 hours since I last stuffed my face?  Normally I would think not.  Anyway, that’s where I was while driving to the pool.  Why not go home and have a nice snack before going to the pool, you might be asking.  Because I have house full of terrorizing dogs, you see.  They are normally pretty good dogs.  Even Hudson, despite being virtually a baby, is learning to adapt and fall into a routine and isn’t barking as much as he used to.  But the worst time of the day is when I first get home from work.  They are all yap-yap-yap (ok- just Hudson, Dingo doesn’t bark) and scratch the legs, and bite the pants and bite each other.  I just didn’t want to deal…yet.  So I went to the pool.  Hungry.

I swam my laps and went home.  I was feeling a little… dizzy, disorientated, hot.  By the time I drove the .25 miles home, I just needed some water and a sit.  So despite the yappy dog upstairs I just sat on the couch for 5 minutes, drank a glass of water and ate a PB&J.  Then I let the dogs out.  Hudson was going berserk.  Dingo was growling.  My legs were getting scratched by Hudson’s talons (reminder: need to cut those).  I let Hudson out with no incident and then Dingo.  Dingo just wouldn’t go.  What is her problem sometimes?  We came back in and Hudson attacked and I just lost it.  I just sat on the couch and balled my eyes out.  It sounds so silly now, but I was so overwhelmed.  I cried like I haven’t cried in years.  Elephant tears.  Sobbing hiccuppy heaves of crying.  Both dogs stopped in their tracks and just stared at me.  All the while, I’m thinking “is this normal?” and “is this my life for the next 9 months?”

I finally got myself together, because really there was nothing wrong, just to have Rob come home and for me to start all over again.  Another 5 minutes of extreme crying.  Rob later said he thought I had miscarried or something, I was just so upset.  Despite, him having told me last week that he was going to make me “get a grip” if I ever let pregnancy hormones get the best of me, he actually was quite sweet.  And I calmed right the heck down.  Sometimes, you just need your husband (or any compassionate loving other- I don’t discriminate) to comfort you.

So there it is.  Another check mark in the list of “Crazy Pregnant Woman Problems.”  Strangely reminiscent to my current favorite meme on Pinterest – “First World Problems.”

Feeling…. Nervous

So now I’m sure I’m pregnant.  I was sure before, but somehow it just hadn’t sunk in.  I’m getting there though.  I’ll admit it.  I took another pregnancy test.  The “what-ifs?” were getting to me.  What if I did it wrong?  What if I imagined that second line… on two different tests?  What if I’ve already miscarried and that’s why I don’t “feel pregnant”?  Well, enough I said, and I took the last test from the box.  Sure enough… still pregnant. 

So now all the concerns set in.  I’m a little concerned about training in all this heat.  I’m a little concerned about training at all.  Is it really safe?  Most sites seem to say it is, but one I read today said that getting your internal temperature over 103 degrees could cause birth defects.  Yikes!  Thing is, I have no idea if my internal temperature goes up that much.  Have you ever checked?  Didn’t think so.  I’m just going to keep it moderate until the first doctor’s appointment and then we’ll just see.  

Thought I would try one of these cheesy surveys of pregnancy and see how I like it, so here goes:

1. How far along? 5 weeks.  Barely begun, but my mind is already all over the place.  No surprise there.  Today alone, I was trying to figure out what my Halloween costume could be, if I had an ectopic pregnancy and researching heart rate monitors.  Lots of new things to think about these days.

2. Total weight gain/loss  None.  I haven’t really set a baseline yet, but since I weigh myself regularly, it all looks pretty normal.  Only worrying thing is my belly seems to jut out more than normal.  Bloating perhaps?  I will be sorry I made fun of a friend who bought a belly band the minute she found she was pregnant, I just know it.

3. Maternity clothes? Not yet, but I’ve been checking out zulily.  Everything is so cute and cheap, but I can’t bring myself to buy them yet.  How devastating would it be if something went wrong early on and then maternity clothes showed up on the door step?  I just can’t do it.  It’s the same fear that keeps me from blurting out the news to everyone I meet.

4. Stretch marks?  Not yet and I plan on using the magic vitamin E and cocoa butter that got rid of my burn scars.

5. Sleep? Normal, but is it my imagination or am I getting up every night to pee? 

6. Movement? Haha, yeah right.  How scary would that be this early on?

7. Gender? No idea, but the Chinese Charts say its a boy.

8. Food Cravings? Nothing specific yet, but I need to eat every few hours.

9. Belly button in/out? In and let’s hope it stays there.

10. Wedding rings on/off? On, but if they do have to come off, it might be a good time to get them cleaned up at Tacori.  It can take a few months, so it seems like the perfect time.

11. Labor signs? Ummm, no.

12. What I miss? Thinking about life without baby.  I will never again be without baby.  Oh my gosh.  That’s my biggest WOW (positive and negative) about this whole process.

13. Milestones Well, this one is easy.  Existing is a huge milestone in my book!

14. What I’m looking forward to? The first doctor’s visit.  I think I’ll relax a little after the doctor confirms everything.  I’m so excited to hear the heartbeat.  And I’m worried about the tri, so whatever the outcome, it will be good to know.

Well, that’s all for today.  I’m really glad to have a place to dump out my brain and see it all on the screen.  I hope this helps me clear my mind and also helps to serve as a baby journal of this journey ahead. 

Shhhh….. I have a secret!

it’s a good thing I started this blog yesterday.  I went home last night and I just couldn’t wait any longer.  I took the pregnancy test I told myself I wouldn’t take until Monday.  It sat on the coffee table for 10 minutes starring me down while I gulped down water.  Finally I was ready to go.  They say to wait three minutes.  I didn’t need to.  That second line appeared almost instantly.  And then time stopped.  I stared at that line for what felt like an eternity, my mind just blank.  Then I looked up at the two dogs.  For the first time since we brought Hudson home, they sat calmly next to each other staring at me.  Did I freak them out?  I don’t know but it was a strange sight to see.

The moment of calm did not last long. Now my brain is racing!  What am I supposed to do?  What am I not supposed to do?  What should I be eating? Is what I already eat good enough?  March is really soon!  Shouldn’t I feel more pregnant?  I wonder how I will look when I’m really pregnant.  Who should I tell?  When can I tell them?  Can I still do the triathlon?  Do I even want to?  That last Run/Bike/Not Run was sooo exhausting.  Even my swim was exhausting yesterday. 

Well that’s enough of that for now.  I’m going to practice outer serene while my insides are spinning.  Let the adventure begin!