It never really goes away

It was a warm day here yesterday - in the 80's. T and I spent the day doing little chores that have been waiting on an invisible list. He installed our rain barrel. We fixed D's changing table so we'll actually be able to use it for the new little person. I mowed the lawn. T spread some dirt and I sprinkled grass seed to try to nurse our pathetic lawn back to life. We did laundry. We took a walk with D. You get the picture. It was a full day.

I realized in the afternoon that I hadn't really felt the baby move during the day. I quickly reminded myself that since *I* had been moving around all day, it would have been hard to feel the baby move. Nonetheless, I found myself poking my belly in the afternoon, trying to get a response. After D was happily in the tub getting a bath from daddy, I went upstairs to take a shower, all the while planning that after my shower I would lie down on the bed to see what was going on with the little one.

When I lay down on the bed, there was kicking and jabbing and general mayhem from the inside, as I had (mostly) expected that there would be. But... I was reminded, as I often am, that the fear is still there. It doesn't matter that I brought a healthy baby to full term once before. It doesn't matter that everything looks fine on every ultrasound. I am still, and always will be, the mother of three dead babies. And for two of them, I'll never know why.

In other news...

I am 9w5d today. Providing I make it through today, I will officially be further along than I made it with any of my miscarriages.

I had a little freak-out on Sunday. I had a minimal amount of brown discharge, and a few veeeeeeery small pink streaks mixed in with my cm when I wiped. I happened to be at my BIL and SIL's house at the time, and it was all I could do to keep my composure until we left, at which point, I of course burst into tears. The answering service at my ob's office told me to go to the ER to get checked out because of my history, and thank goodness, everything was fine. Baby was measuring 9w1d by their u/s, with a heart rate of 180. No real reason for the pink.

I'm still nervous about the pink, but I had another doctor's appointment yesterday and baby was measuring 9w4d with a heartrate of 176. All good. No more pink since Sunday. The doc sent me to get a Rhogam shot just in case (since I'm Rh-).

Remember how disenchanted I was with my last doctor? Can I just tell you how much I LOVE this doctor? "Why don't we see you in two weeks for another u/s, and then we'll do the nuchal scan 2 weeks after that?" He reassured me that they would be checking me all the time throughout the whole pregnancy, which made me feel so much better. I don't want to be the crazy obsessive prego who's running in for an u/s for every little twinge, but frankly, I'M STILL FREAKED OUT. Hard to convince yourself that "everything will be fine" after so many losses.

As a reminder that there are no guarantees, an uber-fertile friend of mine who has three kids (who had one prior blighted ovum in between #2 and #3) just went in for her 18 week u/s with #4 and found out that the baby had stopped growing at 13 weeks. I can't even imagine. I really feel like it must almost feel like a stillbirth to her. I mean, the baby was only 13 weeks, but in her mind, she was almost halfway through the pregnancy. No guarantees, ladies... no matter how "fertile" you may be.

Little sucker is growing

I had another u/s today (the one that was actually scheduled as the follow-up to the first one.) Baby's hb is up to 162 (yay!) and it's measuring right on schedule at 7 weeks, 6 days. Believe it or not, I had an EXTERNAL ultrasound today! (This is my first since the one where I found out about my first m/c). The tech said that it was probably a little early, but there it was. It actually looked a little bigger than 7w6d, more like 8w2d, but she said that variation can be normal because the measurements aren't exact. Something that I find funny is that they have yet to take my weight, blood pressure, or make me pee in a cup. Is that just because most people don't have their first appointment until 8 weeks?

After the u/s, the doctor was like "well, everything looks good, so let's schedule you for the 12 week nuchal fold scan." *Panic ensues* That would be after Christmas, and while I feel like things are going well this time, I just can't bear the thought of waiting four weeks for another ultrasound. I had two of my three miscarriages in that window.

I asked if there was any way I could have another u/s sooner, and the doctor (who I still love) said, "sure, let's schedule one for two weeks." That will still be before the 9 week, 5 day mark when I lost the first one, (my latest loss) but at least there should (hopefully) be an inkling by that time if anything doesn't look right. As of right now, the measurements are great. The embryo and the sac are measuring the same, and right on target (really a little ahead.) The heart rate is right where we want it to be.

I am feeling very, very blessed right now.

The next time

I've been thinking a lot lately about "the next time." I'm very sad about the second miscarriage of course, but I haven't been crying about it in the past couple of weeks. I have to say that the overwhelming emotion that I've felt in the last month since my miscarriage is relief that I don't have to be afraid right now. There's no pregnancy to nurture, and no cycle to count since I've been told to wait for a couple of months.

I got pregnant in July of last year, and had the normal nerves of a Mom who has never had trouble conceiving or had a loss. (Yes, believe it or not, even those women are nervous about their pregnancies!) Then when I lost that baby, I was nervous about when I would get pregnant again. And then when I got pregnant again in November, I was nervous about whether that pregnancy would stick. So, pretty much I was nervous every day from July until December. Six months.

So is it completely strange that I'm feeling this relief? Maybe.

When "the next time" comes, will I be ready for the constant nerves again? Will I be able to handle the very real fear that I might lose another one and still not know why? I guess all I can do is wait and see what happens. For now, I've just been trying to let the fear fly away. Oh, and I'll take that margarita on the rocks with salt, please.