7w1d: Embracing Reality

I refused to even consider maternity clothes when I was pregnant with Rex until I was into the second trimester.  I couldn’t understand how ladies with a barely dry, positive pee stick ran out and started loading up on maternity wear.    What better way to tempt the Fates, than to buy maternity clothes in the first trimester?  I knew how the world worked when it came to the dreaded “m” word and damned if I was going to prove the axiom right.

This time, though, fear has given way to a sort of dress-in the-moment attitude.  The moment currently is that I’m pregnant and I need to dress in something other than flowing dresses because I don’t have that many and my summer tops are feeling neglected from lack of use.   Enter the two Old Navy Maternity shorts that I ordered this morning with no twinge of fear.   At least I’ll be comfortable for the next few weeks – especially on our vacation next week in the Caribbean – and if things don’t work out, I know where I can sell them.  It’s a win-win.

Mr. X and I have also had preliminary discussions of planning for where Baby Lagniappe might sleep, when to tell Rex, and how to handle day care.  We talked about giving breast-feeding another try and what we might need to stock up on again.  And you know what? It didn’t bother me one bit.

Defcon 3: 6w4d

The unbelievable dream continues.

We had the ultrasound this morning and there is a baby in there, measuring right on target based on my cycle length and likely date of ovulation.  And a heart beat of 130 bpm.  We even saw the flicker.

Unlike during my RE days, we’re not having another appointment until four weeks from now.  Normally, this would have sent me into a spiral of angst and worry that I would not have any information during the time when our previous miscarriages had happened.  But, this time, I’m ok with it.  No matter what happens, we’ve already won the lottery with Rex.

If Little Lagniappe decides to stick around, we will be thrilled but we won’t be crushed if he/she does not.

Well, This is Awkward

I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to write this.  It’s just too cliched for words, especially after my last few posts.  It’s too cliched for my history.  It’s too cliched for a Lifetime movie. And yet.

Via Creative Commons by Kaptain Kobold

It appears that I am pregnant.  And, it happened naturally, without drugs, money, swarthy men in green suits or plastic hair covers.  Mr. X knocked me up the old fashioned way. Holy BFP Batman.

I haven’t been charting because that’s too much like trying.  I have been paying attention, however, especially now that since Rex was born, the girls bark every month on cue at ovulation time.  It wasn’t hard to convince Mr. X for some sexy time mentioning that it was also optimal time for a party in my girl parts between our various gametes.  But, we never thought it would work.  I mean, come on.  It took us 5 years to have Rex!

But, two weeks ago, I decided to take a test just in case because I had an evening of drinking and gaming planned with my lady friends and I wanted to know that I was in the clear. I used one of those new fangled digital tests and put it down to get dressed while the hourglass went back and forth in the window.  I came back to look and lo and freaking behold was the one word: pregnant.

I didn’t believe the test to be honest.  I don’t get pregnant on my own.  I called Mr. X, shared the news with him and we both said a few, “hmmms” and “reallys” and “interestings” before moving on to other topics of the day.  As is my nature, I did google the false positive rate of this particular test and was intrigued enough to go out and buy some different tests … which also turned up positive.

Figuring I’d get this all sorted out, I made an appointment with my OB’s office – the same one I had been in not the week before for lady part probing – and got some blood taken.  At 11dpo, beta was 88 and progesterone was 46.  At least my infertility trials taught me enough to know that these were good numbers.  I had a repeat test at 17dpo and beta was 1337, for a doubling time of 36 hours.  We moved to Defcon 4 and set an appointment for an ultrasound on March 26.  I’m already getting nervous, but the emotional and financial investment is not nearly as high as it was with our previous pregnancies.

Since then and during the new two week wait, I’ve been having the usual bloating, queasiness, boob tenderness (although how much of that is me mashing them into oblivion to ensure that they are still tender is unknown), tiredness and pooch showing of my previous pregnancies.  A 5w4d, I’ve already bloated out of my favorite jeans and have taken to wearing flowy dresses.  I’ve cut out booze, caffeine and unpasteurized things.  I’m still acting like a pregnant lady, on the off chance that this sticks.

Both Mr. X and I are thrilled that we were able to do this on our own, but recognize that it’s still so very early in the game.  Still, if Bebe 2.0 were to come out of this, we would be very happy, indeed.  It would be icing on our already large, sweet and savory cake.  Bonus points if Bebe 2.0 arrived on November 5.  Do they make baby-size Guy Fawkes masks?