Bring on the Morning Sickness

For most people, who fall pregnant relatively easily, morning sickness is something I assume they dread.  Feeling nauseous all day, the over-production of saliva, the need to either eat constantly, or not be able to face food at all.  The fact that it overwhelms every part of your day and makes work pretty damn hard.  Doesn't sound too pleasant really.

Except for me.

Ok, so it's not pleasant.  But it sure is a good sign.  I don't particularly like feeling sick 24/7 but the rare moments when I'm not nauseous, I worry.  When I wake up in the morning and don't feel like I'm about to throw up, I worry.  To me, morning sickness is a sign that I'm still pregnant, that my pregnancy is still viable.

Bring on the morning sickness!

Crying Over Feta

So this morning I cried over feta.  Or, more to the point, over the lack of feta.  I wanted to make a salad to take to work for lunch.  It was to have lettuce, baby spinach, cherry tomatoes, avocado, roasted capsicum and crumbled feta.  Only there was no feta.  My husband had used the last of it in dinner last night.  Well, that just threw me over the edge.  I closed the fridge door (with a little more force than required), possibly stamped my foot, and then insisted that I could not possibly have normal cheese in my salad, I would have to have something completely different.

I then had to go off to my bedroom, curl up in a ball and cry.

Over feta.

Oh dear.

I'm not even allowed to eat feta.

I blame it (conveniently) on progesterone.  You see, I had a pretty good level of progesterone early on in my pregnancy, but the fertility specialist put me on some more just in case.  It's a common reason why pregnancies fail - a reduction in progesterone production.  The thing is, progesterone can make you teary and sad.  As I found out this morning.

I know there's no use crying over feta... but I just couldn't help it.

To Hope or Not to Hope, That is the Question

I had my fertility specialist appointment today.  My HCG and progesterone levels are good, our karyotype blood tests were good, in fact, all the tests I've ever had are perfect.

So the specialist said... "Given the results of all your tests, there is no reason that this should not be a successful pregnancy."

I wish he hadn't said that.

When we got our two little lines, we were happy to be pregnant to at least be able to continue on with figuring out what's going on, but we had no hope that the pregnancy would last.  I liked it that way.  It was safe, secure.  It would mean that it wouldn't hurt so much if it ends.

Well, when the FS said that we should have a successful pregnancy, I felt that little thing called hope flicker inside me and try to burn.  Within 15 minutes, over a deliciously luxurious hot chocolate at Max Brenner's, I successful quashed that little flicker of hope.  Well, I think I did.  But I think the FS has implanted that tiny little seed of hope in there, and I don't think I can dig it out.  I wish I could.  I don't want to hope.  Hoping equals hurting.

Pregnant Without the Exclamation Marks

The very first time I got a positive pregnancy test, my husband and I lay in bed, patiently waiting for the pregnancy test to show the result.  It was a digital pregnancy test, so any result would be clear.  After an agonizing wait of three or so minutes, the word pregnant flashed up on the screen.  It was the most amazing feeling, from somewhere deep inside.  An amazing excitement at the way our lives were about to be changed.  We both had tears in our eyes and enormous grins on our faces.  It was such an unbelievably joyful time.

I did another pregnancy test this morning.  My husband is away so I did it alone.  This time it was a typical 'two lines means you're pregnant' test.  Sure enough, as I expected, two lines appeared.  I'm pregnant.  This time though, there's no real joy.

There is a little bit of sadness.
At the thought that this baby may not make it.  At the thought that I may lose another one.  At the thought that I can't be joyful and announce to the world, like the first time... I'm pregnant!!

There is a little bit of resignation.
That we will go through the motions, lose the baby, try again.  That we have no guarantee of ever having a baby.

There is a little bit of relief.
That we are pregnant, and at least the fertility specialist can try and see what's going on.

There is a little bit of fear.
Of the emotions I will have to endure and how I will cope.

But there is also a little, tiny, bit of hope.
That this one, just maybe, will grow to term.