9w 4d -- life marches on

Only this time, life is punctuated by every flat surface in my house being covered by pregnancy, baby and parenting magazines, scrapbook paraphernalia that I don't know how to use, and bills.

I've been feeling very much like I'm in over my head lately, but at least I'm not alone. The Foxy Stoat has impressed me with his very realistic and pragmatic views on what life with the Baby Stoat around will be like, although this could just be that he wants to justify the purchase of a new Macbook and another bass.

It's not helped by the fact that we received some disturbing (non baby related) news yesterday which doesn't change our situation immediately but has the potential to affect things in the medium to long term, including where the baby is born. I am finding this idea more copacetic now that I'm released to a regular OB but still, I would hate to have to go through the process of birth abroad and not in my hospital of choice. I have plans, damnit!

We're going to spend the day together sorting out the massive mounds of bills, going grocery shopping, and making as many future plans as is possible given the current situation.

I'm ready to see the baby again -- I wish the doppler would work well but as of yet, the baby's too small and I'm too fat. The next scan is probably going to be the nuchal translucency, which I have to schedule soon. I've debated going to a private scan place, the kind of places that do 3d scans - some of them have regular ultrasounds, too, but they won't do a scan until the NT scanning is done and they have the doctor's consent so it looks like that will have to wait. DH looked at me like I had two heads when I suggested this!

9 weeks!

Yay!

Each new week -- or, really, each new change on the pregnancy ticker -- feels like a new milestone. According to various sources, we've graduated from "embryo" to "fetus" now and the baby is either the size of a green olive, a small prune or the amount of brain cells I have left that aren't devoted to worrying about this baby.

Or, we could just go with a CRL of 22mm, since that's what the scan said.

Since I was sent off into the wild unknown of a "normal" pregnancy this week, I realized that I wasn't going to be able to have the luxury of an ultrasound or more a week anymore. To combat the mounting terror of Something Going Wrong, I bought a fetal doppler . Sure, I might not have needed the one-day shipping, but it was $3.99 per item. Sue me.

This could go one of two ways. I could, in theory, find the heartbeat immediately and feel a wonderful surge of joy and relief as I hear the steady thump of the Baby Stoat's heart.

Or, and this is far more likely, the fat on my belly could get in the way and I will wind up panicking until my next scan in June.

I know this, I know what I'm like, I *know* how paranoid I am, and still I spent $70 for even the chance at some peace of mind.

The doppler is out for delivery now. This should be fun!

8w 5d

Nearly nine weeks. Over two months. Definitely still knocked up.

I had my first "real" OB appointment today. The RE who was attending me is also an OB, and a GYN, and several other acronyms too but he doesn't handle births, just the art of knocking women up, so I had to pick a new OB last week when I was discharged.

My normal OB is nice enough and I've been seeing her since 1995 when I was first diagnosed with a hormone imbalance (PCOS didn't have a name back then) and she's also the doctor both my mother AND my grandmother use as well. However, she delivers at a hospital which is not my first hospital of choice. There is no NICU there and the birthing suites, while getting better, have the most hideous floral wallpaper imaginable. There are no facilities for water births should I decide to go that route and the prenatal classes offered are slim. Based on that, it was time to find a new OB, so I did what anyone would do -- scanned through the insurance company's listings and picked one at random.

Fortunately for me, this turned out to be the same practice my best friend goes to for her normal girlie checkups, plus that same friend's sister in law just used them to give birth and the baby looks okay, so I went with it. Glad I did, really, since -- despite the fact that I am still a touch overwhelmed -- the doctor was lovely, friendly and smiled a lot. I like that in a doctor. Smiling goes a long way when you're discussing potential complications.

I also have a metric ton of information to digest right now, what with new bloodwork (just rehashing old things like STD tests and thyroid functions) and new terms ("nuchial translucency", anyone?) so overwhelmed doesn't really begin to describe it. Right now my primary goals are to A: not throw up and B: exercise. The last one is really important; the weight is coming back pretty quickly now that I'm not riding. I have to figure out something to do with Wings over the next year so he's not out of shape; right now I'm thinking 2x a week longeing for 45 minutes and one training ride by Rose. I'd consider half-leasing but no one suitable has come up yet and yes, I'm fussy and I'd demand that they lesson with Rose. Since all of her students are, in fact, horsed at the moment I'll just have to wait.

I hate not riding, I hate putting on weight and my emotional state is a whole other post worth of self-pity, but hey, at least I'm growing another head inside of me. This was the goal. :)

Entering Week 8

Things are moving right along!

The little Jelly Baby measures 16.1 mm today, which is precisely 7 mm above where it was 7 days ago and indicates perfect, on target growth. We had a heart rate of 171 BPM, too, also an ideal number for week 8. My hCG is at 79,000 and we're starting to see the slow down for the peak of where that's going to go.

All that being said, I am now off of Metformin and officially discharged to a normal OB! First appointment with her is Monday. I picked her based on the hospital she is affiliated with and the fact that she is local. My normal OB/GYN is affiliated with a hospital which isn't nearly as nice and doesn't have an NICU just in case. I want the birthing suite, please. It's the same hospital my brother was born at 25 years ago, too.

So today's been pretty momentous. So much of the last three years has been occupied in getting to this point that I have to admit I didn't really think this far ahead. I know tons about trying to conceive. I know nothing about being pregnant other than there's loads of things I can't eat or do. And I know sweet fuck-all about being a parent. That last bit is terrifying! I'm not one of those people who went out and bought "What To Expect When You're Expecting" because I was afraid of jinxing myself...but now I suppose I probably should!

Just for the record...

Silly me, thinking morning sickness would affect, you know, the morning. Today it knocked me on my ass until about one and has returned for a rematch after dinner tonight.

Apparently my new eating schedule is "Anything that enters after 4 pm will be evicted. Forcibly."

Lovely.

About this blog

The Stoatette, wife of the man known only as The Foxy Stoat, has embarked upon a strange journey during which she has to conquer her fears of pain, loss, heartbreak, and needles.