17 Weeks: A Jumble of Thoughts

It’s uncanny how sharing one’s woes can sometimes help a situation. Two days after the meltdown in my last post, I found a place to live and we signed the lease on Saturday! My in-laws are fantastic, but I can’t tell you how much we’re looking forward to living by ourselves again. This place is a two-bedroom (the second bedroom will be DH’s office, as he works from home) townhouse in a groovy 60s complex about two miles from the beach — one of the few that is open to dogs off leash all year round. It has a lot of things on our wishlist: proper kitchen, open plan living area, large balcony, designated off-street parking space, and close to downtown San Diego. Right now it takes about 40 minutes to get anywhere we want to go. After we move (roll on July 1st!) it will be 15-20 minutes. I have a busy few weeks ahead of me…

I’m still not feeling great about my career prospects, but I have a few ideas up my sleeve. One is maybe writing a book based on OFT. Another is a children’s book that I am pretty excited about. I think it’s a good story and one that would appeal to lots of people. And maybe I won’t be an in-house graphic designer for a few years yet, but maybe there is a way for me to combine my creative talents so I get to work from home. Watch this space, I guess… and thanks for listening in the meantime. You guys really gave me a boost through your comments, emails, and calls. Thank you xo

♥

Part of feeling so crappy was, I am sure, not helped by the migraines that I had every other day since May 1st. I assumed it was synthetic progesterone withdrawal but now I’m not so sure. I made an appointment with my primary care physician (PCP or GP) to discuss what the triggers are and how best to cope. Long story short, I ended up seeing not my PCP (who is experienced with pregnancy and childbirth) but someone else. A horrid doctor who was most unsympathetic and tried to prescribe me naproxen which is not safe in pregnancy. The med student in the room was more help. She suggested I drink caffeine every day to ward off headaches, instead of just having a cup of coffee when I wake up with one.

BINGO!

Instead of coffee every morning, I now drink two cups of my beloved black tea (Waitrose Gold, for those of you who know it) and sometimes an afternoon cup of Earl Grey (my fave!). I haven’t had a headache since, although I’ve felt quite a few threaten to make an appearance. The lovely Dr. D — my OB whom I saw today for my second prenatal appointment — said she’d rather I drink a few cups of tea or coffee than take the naproxen… Interestingly, her opinion on caffeine in pregnancy is that it would only be harmful in quantities more than I would consume, and only then in the first trimester. She is more than happy for me to enjoy my cuppas! (You can take the girl out of England…)

I also asked her if it was okay to eat soft cheese as long as it is pasteurised — there is such conflicting data online — and she said yes. I still won’t be eating mouldy cheeses like Roquefort or Brie, but Hello, soft chèvre!

Excitingly, it’s totally fine for me to go swimming in our new complex’s saltwater swimming pool. Oh, swoon!

And there was a glorious little heartbeat, knock-knock-knocking away in the 150s. Perfect for someone the size of an orange.

♥

A few weeks ago, my godmother’s sister sent me this picture of my mum and me.

I actually remember this photo being taken. I was the flower girl at my godmother’s wedding in Los Angeles — one of many childhood trips that would make me fall in love with southern California. The wedding photographer took a Polaroid of me, and let me watch as my image swam into focus from an orange square. It was my first experience with a Polaroid and it seemed like magic.

I look at this picture and, even now, I want to scoop up that little chromosomally wonky child and tell her it will be okay. Oh, honey… you have no idea what lies ahead… I look so like my mum and wonder how I will feel when people tell me this growing baby does or does not look like me. I wonder how I will feel and what I will say in response.

A few weeks ago, I shared the photo with DH, and it made him sad. I think we still need to do something to say goodbye to all the genetic children we will never have.

But I am consoled to have had the fun experience of a roll around in the hay and getting knocked up like a normal fertile. That was pretty magical.

And it’s pretty magical that I am carrying this baby.

My body took that microscopic embryo and breathed life into it. Into her. Occasionally, I feel her kick. Mostly, it’s like a gentle prod or a bubble bursting, first thing in the morning, last thing at night, and some quiet moments in-between. Sometimes it feels like a dabbing, the way a little old lady might primly wipe her mouth. I softly say Hiiii, baby! but haven’t plucked up the courage to talk to her yet.

Similarly, we’ve picked a name, but don’t call her by it yet. I don’t know why, really. It brought a smile to my face this morning when my mum emailed me to ask how Little V____ is doing.

I am so excited about this baby that she makes the horrible journey worthwhile. I freely admit to not being able to remember the intensity of the pain I was in this time last year. When I  re-watched the video I created last summer, the pain rushed back. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I watched it, this time, mixed in with relief. I may not have left Loss and Infertility Island in the way I expected, but this little boat is steaming ahead.

Since finding out this little baby is most likely a girl (which will hopefully be confirmed at next Tuesday’s anatomy scan), this pregnancy is feeling more and more real. I am beginning to think of my life in terms of there being a baby arriving in November, which is a major shift in my thinking. I used to think of having to use donor eggs as like a death sentence, but how that has changed! I want to tell anyone considering it or worried about it that it doesn’t matter, this baby is mine, and your baby — no matter how he or she comes to you — will be yours. I just have to look and feel all the ways my body and constitution have changed to know this baby is mine, all mine.