Welcome to pregnancy #12, people. Willing to observe the ride with me? However long it lasts this time?
I guess I should 'fess up that I got the most ridiculously obvious positive line on a test that I think I have ever seen for this stage. Don't go getting excited. Please. Leave the corks in the bottles for now.
My last (unplanned) pregnancy was four months ago now. I can't believe that much time has flown already. I realised after the fact that keeping quiet wasn't going to help me sift through my feelings much. So this time, you're along for the ride if you read this blog regularly. Because this time, regardless of the fact that this too is another unplanned (but obviously not well avoided) pregnancy, I feel more mentally prepared and willing to accept another little person into our lives. Last time, the LGBB wasn't even walking yet, I was still under all sorts of stress with juggling everything, still had lingering depression (when does that ever NOT linger these days though???), still felt so embittered about.. well, lots of things.
When I called my Homoeopath yesterday to make an appointment, he said, "And is this good?" It was a valid question. Last time, I contacted him and said even though I had begun to spot, I was torn about whether I was relieved about it or saddened. I discovered that I was both, simultaneously. I told him this time that, yes, this is good. This was unexpected but wanted. Very much. So I have made an appointment with him, advising that I have to do everything within my power to at least be healthy - in mind and body. And with the LGBB, he helped me with both those things.
Funny how Lolly walking of her own accord opened both our worlds up like I wouldn't have believed. And I freed up all that brainspace that was reserved for subconsciously gnashing my teeth that there was something wrong with my baby, hence the gross motor delay. She's still not fantastic at walking, not out of the woods, but we're all keeping an eye on her balance (which is taking forrrevvvvverrrrrr to build) and looking out for other signs of trouble. Sigh.
Aaaaaaanywho. I went to Peace Space on Sunday for a retreat day. Just me, the laptop, the book. I spent the day with Neri and Jen and they helped me A LOT. It was just a blissful day of cups of tea, great conversation and trains of thought and lots of healing feelings. I have felt so much better this week already because of the connections to things I made.
While there, Jen (being the intuitive that she is), had a twinkle in her eye and a cheeky grin on her face when I asked her, jokingly, "There'd better not be another baby out of all this." She had been reading a passage aloud for me to take in. It was about the Bear wisdom I wrote of earlier this week. I can't remember which section of the text caused me to suddenly say something that is totally unlike me - never in my previous years would I do the arm-crossed "back off" to ANY baby making its way to us - but I said it before thinking and Jen turned to me, grinning. "I think there is ..... soon," she added as a loaded after-thought before turning back around and continuing reading. The smile took a few sentences to fade from her face. I watched her, a little bit too scared to ask her ... just how soon is soon.
That night, back home, I got to thinking. Hmmmmm, last period was June 11. Probably had birthday sex somewhere around .... oh dear, the 27th ..... haven't been plotting my fertile signs properly since the last miscarriage .... hrnnnngh. Oh well, probably nothing. I'm only a couple of days late.
Early the next morning, however, I awoke with a full bladder and lay there thinking, "Do I collect this wee in a cup and do the test later? Stealthily? After Steve's gone to work? Just how late am I? Can't be more than .... 1, 2, 3 ... ooh, hang on, 5 days late??" Leapt out of bed, collected the sample, hopped back under the covers and forgot the cup was there. I even hid it from Steve. I put it in the cupboard under the sink (hey, as the title suggests - my blog, my confessional). I was not even sure there would be an obvious reason why I was late. I had no other "symptoms". But something was sort of making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, recalling Jen's little interaction with me the previous day.
Steve left for work. I heard his car door slam, the LGBB was busy being a ballerina with a bit of beautiful velvety ribbon (did I mention? It's so gorgeous, she has taken to all things "Ballerina" and chants the word - don't ask me where she got it from and so word perfect, too, because I don't think I'd ever said the word to her). And I suddenly remembered: my wee is in a cupboard under the sink.
Got the packet open and took out the last test from March that I had bought - that line had been sooooooo faint it could hardly be photographed, the next test done the following day (on CD35 for those interested) was just as faint, it was barely there - and I dipped the stick. Counted to ten, put the cap back on, put it down on the counter and made sure the liquid was moving across, looked across again at the instructions - wait for 3 minutes, cool, ok - looked back at the window and a line was already there. Ok, that must be the control line. But then, as the liquid hit the right hand side, another line appeared. Confusion. That's ... two lines. But which is which then? Checked the instructions again and, oh wow, the test line was coming up at the same time as the control. That's a definite positive, I thought.
I've been surprised at how chuffed I am. How straightforward this has been so far. It is difficult not to get/be excited. I can't, though. Please understand, even if your intentions are in the right place, that I can't hear that everything will be fine. We are not a "normal" couple, Steve and I. We do the initial conception part pretty well. The implantation bit has sucked, more often than not, though, and we need to be wary over this next week and a bit because the six week mark and under is when I lose most of mine. I am fully expecting to have pain at any moment, the real mind-fuck being that the further along I go, the more I am hopeful while at the same time, I know that a miscarriage will hurt more the further along I am. Know what I mean? I fear the pain, the physical pain, most. I know how to deal with the mental pain. But the physical stuff always varies. And usually, if implantation has happened and the baby suddenly stops, I literally feel a BANG. Like a ... can't describe ... a painful POP, really sharp and sudden. The only one I had when I was awake and it happened like that was in 2002 - I've written it into the book - and I was doing 110km/h up a country freeway at the time. Little bit dangerous to get sudden blinding pain and lots of blood everywhere.
But that's (hopefully) beside the point this time.
After clearing next week (the rough six week mark), if we do, we then have to be regularly monitored to twelve weeks - the developing foetus won't measure anywhere near dates if it is "unbalanced" and considering the termination I had to have in December '04, the only pregnancy that had no bleeding whatsoever and I naively thought this meant it would all turn out just dandy this time, was not confirmed by ultrasound until the first and last time I saw my dear Ob, THIS time (any next time, actually) I am not going to lay back and wait and obliviously think that just because I am sick and my boobs are getting more tender and I haven't had pain or bleeding that it means all is ok in there.
Right now, I am feeling all very zen about it. There is no point doing anything else. I'm just bracing. My mind is in turmoil over whether to let out an "eeek!" but my heart and my cellular memory know it's not kind of my mind to convince me to be anticipatory in any way yet. And then there's all the other months. We are literally not in the clear until a baby is delivered safely to our arms, because sometimes the abnormalities brought about by varying combinations of the imbalance of chromosomes that have the potential to be passed on by Steve cannot be determined by ultrasound. We could opt for a CVS or amnio, but we have agreed before that the risk - given there is a risk of miscarriage - is too great. We are already highly susceptible to miscarriage (4:6 chance of miscarriage.... that's approx. only 2 in every 6 pregnancies successful, to you and me, Russ). I don't want to add another factor to flavour the already heavy mix.
When the LGBB is in front of me, when she is anywhere around, she is all I see and all I think about. When she is in bed, I am increasingly thinking or focusing on this pregnancy and how it will turn out. Just wondering. Just slowing stepping, inching, towards that first Ob's appointment (not for another week and a bit yet aaaaaargh).
As I have reiterated to people, we were NOT trying to have a baby. We have simply thrown caution to the wind since the LGBB was born. I can literally count on one hand the number of opportunities this entire YEAR that it would even be possible it could happen. Given that there have been two pregnancies out of these *cough* liaisons, I am thinking either one or both of them is immaculate :P or that Steve and I are just really, I don't know, tuned in? Someone upstairs has got my number. Or his. And they have really called our bluff on agreeing to not ever try again to have another baby.
And just to be cute and tempt that nasty hand called Fate that little bit more, I have created a ticker. So that I can obsess on something visually too. You'll find it at the bottom of this page.
So we're hanging on to our hats and strapping in. This is gonna hurt. Coming along for the ride?
Oh, by the way, want to see my CD34 and CD36 tests?? Control line's on the right...
