The Gall

bladder, that is. The NP was pretty sure it's my gall bladder- possibly gall stones. Apparently, issues with the gall bladder can be exacerbated by pregnancy. I have an ultrasound scheduled for tomorrow, but it is doubtful they will get south enough for me to see what I really want to see.

Paranoid?

I was repeatedly struck by upper gastric pain this weekend and not of the heartburn variety. I finally put in a call to the OB and the doctor on call indicated that it might be my gall bladder. So, I called today to make an appointment as suggested by the doctor on call and had to play the telephone hokey-pokey and hemming and hawing about maybe I should wait for my scheduled appointment in two weeks. Umm, no. If there is something wrong with my gall bladder, I would like to know now, thank you very much.

When complaining to DH about the runaround, I said I didn't know why they make women wait until 10-12 weeks to come in for their first appointment anyway. He replied that most women are probably not as paranoid about their pregnancies. Yes, paranoid! I guess that would be me.

Personally, I think he is dead wrong. I think that even fertile women (especially those in their first pregnancies) are just as anxious about getting in to the doctor initally.

He is so in trouble.

Becoming a Vegetarian

Despite my normal carnivorous nature and all the protein-emphasized diets I have been on, it appears that pregnancy may render me a vegetarian. Even the thought of meat isn't sitting too well.

Lapped

I just learned (from DH who really didn't want to tell me, no doubt predicting my reaction) that our next-door neighbor is pregnant again. Four months apparently. Unplanned, another "oops." This is the couple who weren't married yet when they bought the house next door because she was finalizing her divorce. Shortly after they moved in in October 2006 (months after we started trying), I learned she was "accidentally pregnant." She had a little girl in May 2007, just as our infertility diagnosis was being finalized. At some point before the birth, they quietly got married.

Before the birth, the father mentioned how he would be disappointed if it was a girl. Turns out he was disappointed. He spends very little time with the baby. The great-grandmother or grandmother watches her constantly. I understand needing someone while the mother is working, but if the mother is not there, the grandmother or great-grandmother is, even when the father is home. The mother did not breastfeed because it was "inconvenient." I know that often breastfeeding doesn't work out for people, but to not even give it a shot for the sake of your kid? It frustrates me how little these people seem to do for their baby. I could go on and on. And yet, they're having another.

Does being pregnant take some of the sting away? Yes. But I am still left angry and full of righteous indignation at the unfairness of these people getting ANOTHER oops baby when there are so many others who have endured so much that deserve a baby so much more. She will have two babies and mine will still not be born yet. And that's assuming that we get a take-home baby out of this pregnancy. I know in my head that it rains on the just and the unjust and that life is not "fair." But in my heart- the voice calls out, "Unfair, unfair."

Relief

That is what I feel- a big whoooooosssshhhhh of it.

The baby is measuring a day ahead and we saw the heartbeat.

Parenting After Infertility: Singing Your Lullabies at Last

This final chapter of Unsung Lullabies was a struggle for me to read several weeks back. I never thought that by the time I got through the end of the book, we would be a step closer to parenthood. The authors make the point that having a baby in your arms soothes many of infertility's wounds. And I can understand that. But I am still viewing the pregnancy experience through the lens of infertility.

The authors accurately describe the sense of impending doom that women who are pregnant after infertility experience. "After so much going wrong, it's hard to believe things could possibly go right." Yes, thank you for putting my feelings into words.

The chapter also deals with the guilt and difficulty that new parenting brings and how that is exascerbated by the length of time that one struggled to get to the goal of parenthood. The infertile parent may feel ashamed that parenting is harder than expected because of the great lengths one has gone through to have a baby.

My favorite section of this chapter was what do you tell your child. It appears that I won't have to explain ivf or adoption to this child about his or her conception. But I guaranteed you this child will know about infertility and that having a baby isn't always easy. He or she will also learn how much we longed for his or her presence and what a miracle we were given.

Check out some more thoughts on this final chapter at Fertility Challenged in Florida.

You gotta believe

My father, the erstwhile Little League coach who longed for a little boy but doomed to father only three girly girls, was always ready with the Bad News Bears-style peptalk that centered around the phrase, "You gotta believe." The bottom of the ninth with two outs and your team behind- "you gotta believe." My sister teetering on the balance beam, so close to losing her footing and a gymnastics medal- "you gotta believe." He always is willing to extend the benefit of the doubt that things are going to work out on the side of victory. His catchphrase is a running joke in our family.

The other night when I asked DH for the umpteenth time if he thought all was going to be well at the ultrasound on Thursday, he confidently answered, "yes." I asked him how he could be so sure and he responded, without a hint of irony, "You've gotta believe." DH so strongly feels that God would not have given us this miracle only to then snatch it away from us.

I so very much want to believe.