Desperate Measures

My uterus is currently tucked in behind my pelvic bone.  Nice and protected by a lovely hard bit of bone.  I would have thought, then, that lying on my tummy would be a non issue at the moment.  It's not until about 14 weeks that the uterus pops out from behind its protective wall.

For some reason though, I can't lie on my stomach.  It's really quite uncomfortable.  At first, I thought this wouldn't be too bad a thing.  Sure, I sleep every night on my stomach, but surely after a week or so I would get used to not doing this?

Wrong.

I have now been 'not sleeping on my stomach' for a good 6 weeks and I am still not used to it.  Worse than that - I hate it!  I am dying to sleep on my stomach!  I look over at my lovely husband, sound asleep, on his stomach, and get massive pangs of jealousy.

I have tried everything.

Sleeping on my back - good for about half an hour at a time.

Sleeping on my side - squishes my chest and shoulders too much.

Sleeping on my side with a pillow to cuddle - better, but still lasts only 45 minutes before I have to swap sides.  Then dragging the pillow over (under the blanket) to the other side to resettle is sure to make me wide awake.

Sleeping on my side with a pillow ready on BOTH sides - makes the bed very squishy - and I still change sides every 45 minutes or so and wake up.

The other day - I had a bath.  I half filled it, pulled my bath pillow down low to water level, turned on to my stomach, and layed there blissfully, on my stomach - for a good half hour.  It was wonderful but not very practical.

So last night, I tried sleeping on my stomach, with a pillow under my head and under my chest.  It raised my stomach off the bed just enough to make that relatively comfortable.  Problem is, my breasts then hurt!  They didn't used to hurt.  Forgot that would be an issue as well.

My next plan of attack is to get a foam mattress, cut a hole where your belly goes ( and maybe I would need holes where the breasts go too!) and try that.

I am desperate - I will do it.

Not Quite Ready

We had another visit to the fertility specialist.  I was 10 weeks, 1 day.  I had been having a few tummy tightenings and was feeling sick as a dog, so my anxiety was less than the previous few weeks.  I hopped up onto the chair and waited to see if something was still growing inside.

It sure was.

There was a little foetus.  Looking slightly human even.  It was hanging out on its belly (very jealous - I love lying on my belly but can't anymore) and measuring 3.5cm - spot on for 10 weeks.  It's heart beat was fantastic - nice and strong. 

Ah the sweet relief.

Our second bub didn't make it.  Its sack was being all squished by the first bub.  The FS said it would eventually be squished into non existence.

Now some organising begins.  I have to have a range of blood tests next week, followed by a nuchal translucency scan the week after.  I also have to book into an obstetrician, and into the hospital.  Wow, this is starting to feel real.  I'm starting to get excited.  But I'm not quite ready to totally let go yet.

Murphy's Law

A while ago, I wrote a post called 'Life on Hold'.  I decided that I would no longer plan things around 'I can't do that because I might be pregnant' and so I started a garden.  I have this enormous dead patch of grass ringing my bare yard now, just calling out for plants and I had been eagerly researching plants and designing the layout of the native tropical garden I am intending to grow.  My plan was to plant it out day by day during the next school holidays - it would be spring - lovely weather and perfect time to grow plants!

Well, Murphy's Law - I fell pregnant!  I am so so happy to be pregnant, but I do find it funny that as soon as I planned something that I could only do if I wasn't pregnant, I fell pregnant.  Hmmm... maybe I should have organised this garden a long time ago.  Some of you may think - 'why on earth can't she plant a garden?'  Well, fair enough, but I am a little precious now with this being pregnant business.  I would like it to last more than 10 weeks!  40 or so, preferably.  I have no idea why I keep miscarrying so I just avoid EVERYTHING that could have the tiniest teeniest chance of contributing.  So that means no lifting heavy plants, no digging, and no hands in the dirt.  That kind of rules out gardening!  Luckily, my family are also precious about my pregnancy and they have all offered to come and plant my garden for me in a big working bee! 

So those plans haven't been thrown out the window after all - and I will soon have my beautiful garden, thanks to my amazing family.

There's the Heartbeat

It's pretty easy for me to know this pregnancy is real.  I'm bloated, my pants are tighter, I'm constantly nauseous but need to keep eating 24/7, I get up twice a night now to go to the loo, I'm exhausted, and I have tightenings and crampings and things going on in my tummy.  Pretty obvious really.  But for my husband, it's a little bit harder to be hit with the reality of it.  Sure, he saw two lines on the test.  He hears my whingeing about the nausea.  He tries to pay attention to what foods he can't serve me anymore.  But for him, it's not quite as real.  He's not living it 24/7 like I am, he only gets the occasional tidbit fed from me.

In a way, I think I'm the lucky one, although I think a little anxiety comes with it too... when I stop feeling nauseous, I actually worry.  This all changed when I had my first ultrasound.  I have asked my husband to come with me to all my fertility specialist appointments ever since I felt vulnerable and emotional alone at my first one.  He accepted without a question. I don't think he really thought he was needed but understood that I wanted him there. Well, I'm pretty sure he was glad he came to this one.

We sat together in the lovely waiting room, discussing the fact that they have a coffee machine at a fertility specialist - shouldn't they be advocating less caffeine?  Oh, right, they offer decaf.  Our inane musings were interrupted when we were called in to the rooms, where we had a brief discussion before we got down to serious business.  There I was, in the undiginifed position of having my feet in stirrups with a very phallically shaped tool approaching my nether regions -  not exactly romantic or emotional stuff, until the picture came up on the screen. 

There it was, a tiny blob in a dark coloured space, with a little flutter.  And then there was a sound - whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh - "there's the heartbeat" says the specialist,  "who's heartbeat?" says my beautiful husband,  "our baby's" say I.

A bit of silence ensues.  It's real.

The fertility specialist went on, doing what he does to check what he needs, when another surprise greets us.  "And there's another sac".  Twins??  I looked, and saw the sac was empty.  He searched for a little while, but couldn't find another bean.  We still don't know whether that bean didn't make it, or whether it was just a little slow.  We won't find out if we have one or two until our 10 week ultrasound.  It's very exciting, but I must admit, if there's only one, I'll be a little sad that we lost one.

The specialist goes back to have another little look at the first beating bean (or maybe it was for our benefit) before he finishes up and leaves the room.  I look up at my husband.  He's grinning like a cheshire cat.  He starts jumping up and down with the most amazing look of love and utter happiness on his face.  He says, "thanks so much for making me come with you".  He's stoked.  Actually, he's beyond stoked.   Today it was very very real for him and it was amazing to see him so excited.  I can't wait for our next ultrasound... the joy of technology!