RE– Joey had an ultrasound this morning. Both babies are showing another 7 days worth of growth with heartbeats of 139 and 147. She still has a clot “in there” but it is a bit smaller and well-positioned. In our consultation with the RE, she assured us that all is well and then she released us from her practice unless something goes wrong (which she does not expect). I was surprised that we would not have another ultrasound in a week but the doctor assured us that there is no need. The babies are beginning to look like honest to goodness babies. On the ultrasound, we could see the tiny oversized heads and smaller sections that will be tummies we kiss before the end of the year. They are each about the size of a blueberry and I am amazed at the love I have for them already.
Anxiety– Today was very close to the time when I had my 1st ultrasound when pregnant. At this point, the baby had a much slower heartbeat and was not the size we expected. This comparison releases me somewhat from worry. It is nice to know that the babies are on track.
Nausea– My poor dear has been experiencing unending morning sickness. She always always feels terrible and lately has found little relief despite all the myriad of homeopathic remedies we have tried. She now has a bottle of Zo.fran she is clutching to her heart as though it were made of gold.
The house– While I love our home, I get so tired of being cooped up inside during the winter months. This week the weather has turned warm and sunny. I have tended the yard and the flowerbeds. This weekend I plan to till a garden spot, albeit closer to the house than last year as I will be primarily on my own with that task. I have bought a ton of tomatoes, squash, okra, cantaloupe, watermelon and yellow peppers, and I am so excited to get my little plants into the ground.
Regret– My relief from regret has come as quite a shock to me. Several people online and in my everyday life have asked about how I am faring with my new pants-on role as the non-gestational mother. The complete truth is that I have experienced a few moments of irritation with my excessive number of repeating tasks for the next 7 + months. I also had a few moments of bitterness sitting on a stool in my kitchen the very night we announced our BFP on the blog. The idea that I finally had a BFP was beyond exciting yet also made me feel a touch like an imposter since it was not technically mine. I sat quietly before bed and cried some self-pitying tears that I am not the pregnant partner and I railed a bit at the universe for giving me a dream it had no intention to fulfill. But then I sucked it up, washed my face and chided myself for being such an unmitigated ass. It seems such a pity to grieve at all with the positive pee sticks practically still drying in the bathroom.
Since the early days of the pregnancy, my new role has become increasingly easier until this week when I had the grand Ah-ha moment. First of all, I have been reading the still trying to conceive blogs with new eyes. The constant attempts, the worry, the hope, the fear, the exhaustion, the frustration, my never-ending internal mantra of “please, please, please….” repeated during each tww, the crushing disappointment, the grieving, the pulling back together to try again and again: I do not think that I now possess the strength to continue that process. Three years is enough and I am glad to be free from the cycle. Someday, I may choose to have my endometriosis surgically addressed and I may decide to have one of our frozen embryos transferred to me. But I may not and that is a level of release I am surprised to experience. To be honest, I wish I would have changed roles sooner.
And the ah-ha moment: I went to a local department store to buy my dear some shirts. She needs some loose-fitting tops as her belly is uncomfortably tight in her own shirts. I want her to feel pretty and I want her to stop using my clothes as “fat shirts.” (Really, it hurts me feelings a bit.) Point being that I leisurely looked at baby clothes and imagined what we will need. Then without a moment’s hesitation, I walked into the maternity section and chose several shirts for Joey. I would pick up some things I thought were cute then would think, “No this is more me than Joey.” So I would choose something more plain and soft. As I was leaving the section, I realized that my heart had been surprisingly quiet during the entire shopping experience. No pangs… no wistfulness… no ache. I was shocked! I thought, “If I would have known how much better I would feel, I would have transferred baby-making responsibilities to Joey ages ago.” I left the parking lot singing with a sense of easy freedom I thought I forgot how to feel.