Finally here, safe and sound

Baby Boy Brightside made his appearance Thursday, December 6, at 3:00p sharp by planned c-section. He is cute as a button and couldn't be more perfect, and I just love his little face more than I thought possible.

He is sleeping lots and feeding like a champ, and we should be heading home from the hospital tomorrow. My brain is mush (yay narcotics!) so will report more later. But I just had to break the news to let you all share in my huge sigh of relief. Little guy thanks you for keeping his mama sane.

D Day

Today is officially our Due Date, but kiddo apparently hasn't checked the calendar and seems snuggled in tight. At my last appointment Monday all was still locked up tight, but have another appointment this coming Monday morning so crossing my fingers for SOME sign of progress.

Ever the headcase, I am a weird jumble of emotions. 

• I still can't quite get myself to believe that we (knock on wood) will have our baby in our arms sometime in the next two weeks. Nope, still can't actually picture it or commit my heart. 
• I'm in weird state of denial about how this kid will get out. I like to think this is somewhat healthy. I have no way to know or control how things will go down from here, so I'm just trying to go with the flow. And keep my head in the sand a bit. See previous bullet.
• The fear has returned in full force. Not all the time, but more than in recent months, I find my thoughts straying to what could still go wrong and break our hearts all over again. It's almost like being so close, so so close, is making me paranoid and desperate to get across the finish line.
• At the same time, I am in no hurry for this pregnancy to be over. I will miss having my buddy with me all the time, safe and sound and kicking away. (See previous bullet. Yes, I know I am crazy.) I've been pregnant for so long it just feels normal to feel and look this way, to essentially have a pass at conforming to any standard of beauty and fashion. I look ridiculous. So what.

As for the belly, it's gigantic. And unfortunately, I'm not just talking about mine! We had an ultrasound at about 37 weeks, and this kid was already estimated at 8 lb 2 oz. Say what?!? The ultrasound tech was sure to point out his big round belly and kept making cracks about him being a linebacker. And that was 3 weeks ago. And could keep cooking for who knows how much longer -- my practice doesn't induce before 41 weeks, and then waits until your doc is on the schedule at the hospital. 

Arriving healthy is all I care about... but I'd be lying if I said my thoughts haven't strayed to how difficult it's going to be to get this chunker out. What was that I said before? Going with the flow...

Back to my gigantic belly. It's big and round and sticks straight out, and invites mockery from all those around me. Even my 3 year old nephew simply pointed and snickered when he first saw me on Thanksgiving. Must be the combo of a big baby and old mom who has barely worked out in 4 years of IF/RPL hell, or possibly the optical illusion of its relative size to my still-super-small boobs. Oh well, just makes me laugh. Not like there's anything I can do about it! SO not my concern.

Monday is supposed to be my last day at work, based on using up all my vacation time before the end of the year. Would much rather have time off with bebe, so I'm kind of waiting to see what happens at my appointment on Monday to bring up the possibility of letting some of those days roll over to next year and working a few more days. I should probably just embrace the time off regardless. Sweatpants are definitely my preferred choice in clothing.

As for my to-do list, having made it this far, it's actually in pretty good shape. I feel like I got done most of what I wanted to before the craziness hits. (Hear that, baby? I'm ready!!)

So there you have it. And now we wait.

I'm usually pretty bloggy-shy, but I thought I'd share a couple of pics. First one is a belly shot from Thanksgiving (excuse the headless self-portrait), and the second is my favorite little basket of cuteness right now. We haven't set up a nursery yet (he'll be in our room), so this is one of many intermediate organization solutions. Love.

Full term, but still not real

Tomorrow the calendar ticks over to 37 weeks pregnant. Full term. I can still hardly believe those words as I stare at them, even as little boy squirms and kicks, even as my belly protrudes ridiculously in its best impression of a smuggled basketball.

To any outside observer, I'm fully playing the part of a "normal" pregnant person preparing for the actual arrival of an actual baby. In the past 2 months I've...

• Shopped all over town to select and register for baby items
• Been showered with kindness and gifts at a lovely shower thrown by mom and SIL
• Attended expectant parent classes with Mr. B. - newborn care, labor, touring the hospital, the works
• Cleaned house like a mad woman - purging closets, organizing drawers, steam-cleaning carpets, buying new blinds
• Tried to catch up on "life" that somehow slipped through the cracks these past 4 years of struggle and sadness - getting new glasses, replacing the tires on my car, backing up my computer, buying a new camera
• Talked to work about maternity leave and returning on a reduced schedule
• Gone to prenatal yoga classes at least once or twice a week
• Bought a nursing bra
• Generally chattered away with coworkers and strangers (and election workers...) about due dates and planning and cankles

My to-do list grows ever longer, especially as my ambitions continue to way exceed my decreasing energy levels. After feeling so impatient for so long, once we hit about 24 weeks (viability and feeling movement), I felt a wave of stress and switched gears into "holy crap, I need to get some shit done," and it feels like the weeks have flown by since.

But despite all this, a numbness persists. A disconnect between my head and my heart. Everything feels like an almost academic exercise - "I need to pick out the best stroller" but deep down I can't picture a baby in it, let alone OUR baby.

Just tonight I did a load of laundry of baby things for first time. Our shower was just 2 weeks ago, and feeling overwhelmed, I placed a call to Mom to come help me go through everything last weekend. But tonight was the first time I was alone with these things, placing each little sock and footed sleeper into the washing machine. And then just staring incredulously at it all.

I'm so incredibly grateful to be where we are, and so much sadness has been lifted already, but this barrier remains. And I don't think there is any way to get past it until this little boy is safely in our arms. Imagining that moment, that very first moment he is out in the world, overwhelms me and brings a sob to my throat every time I allow myself to go there. Please please please, I beg of the universe, get us to that place safely and soon.

And to my dear fellow bloggies, please forgive my absence from this space. Each day, and then another, would pass without finding the time or energy, and if I'm really honest, the self-awareness and marbles to put words to my feelings and experiences these days. But know that you all are in my thoughts daily, even if I don't get the chance to comment. Having zero screen privacy at work can be a real sonofabitch sometimes. {*And wordpress seems to be eating all my comments when I do - WTF?? At least 3 4 just now, argh. I tried, Egghunt, Miss Ohkay, and Daryl!}

I want to give a special nod to Amy at Dwelling on Dreams and Emily at Trying to Find My Way - I found them both during this pregnancy, each of us expecting our rainbow babies after RPL, all boys, all due almost the same exact day. Like so often in blogland, finding others who are going through the exact same roller coaster of emotions is beyond comforting, and many times I've been tempted to link to their posts with "what she said." Hoping our paths continue to converge in happy endings in just a few short weeks. Thinking of you both!!

Please lend support

I know I've been away far too long, but at this moment my update seems pretty insignificant - in short, I'm fine, baby is fine (adding the requisite "as far as I know...").

But my thoughts and heart are filled with sadness with a terrible loss in our community this week. I've had the privilege of first meeting Erin at Will Carry On through her blog, then in real life, when we realized we lived barely a mile from each other. Her and her husband had already suffered the loss of several pregnancies, including one at 16 weeks. They most recently became pregnant with triplets, and after a tumultuous early pregnancy, losing one of the babies, and some soft marker scares, finally seemed to be on their way with healthy boy-girl twins, just a week ago finally let themselves believe in the promise of their future.

All this was cruelly ripped away from them this week when the babies came into this world too early at almost 21 weeks. My heart is breaking for them and their loss that no one should have to endure. The tragedy suffered by them and others I've met here is beyond comprehension, beyond sense-making. But please do what little we can by reading their posts from this week, bearing witness to their loss and pain, and lending your voice in support.

Healing: 2 steps forward, 1 step back

I thought my next post was going to be about how much better I was feeling compared to the past few years. How wonderful it felt to not be fighting the drowning feeling of sadness all the time. To be free of obsessing over what our next steps should be, what progress I should be making on a new doctor or adoption or egg donation or some other Plan B just.in.case, what new diet or massage or vitamin I should be trying to "fix" my broken body. To not be forcing myself to find enjoyment in the life I had, when all I really felt was yearning for the life I wanted. 

  

Because all these things are true. I HAVE been feeling better, feeling joy. Not only tolerating but starting to enjoy the new attentiveness from coworkers and strangers alike - the extra smiles, doors being held open, the eager small talk. Feeling like I actually belonged in my prenatal yoga class, instead of an impostor. Starting to allow myself to plan and imagine and make steps towards preparing for our new future. And loving this little boy, oh the love - every kick, every wiggle.

  

Which is why what happened Saturday morning caught me so off guard. It was a nice sleepy, cloudy, no-where-to-rush-to kind of morning. Mr. B was under a blanket on the coach watching TV when I joined him with a bowl of cereal. He was flipping channels, and landed on How.ard Ste.rn's Pri.vate Pa.rts, *right* at the exact scene where his wife has a miscarriage. Now I've seen this movie before, and certainly when I've been in a much worse place, and I don't even really mind the way they handle it in the movie. My first thought was even "thank god I'm in a place where this isn't so painful to watch." But before my head could even catch up to what was happening with my body, I started to feel uncomfortable. A tightness in my chest, a sudden loss of appetite for my cereal. I find my voice to ask hubs to turn the channel at least until this part is over, but as he was flipping through the guide I could still hear the audio. His wife sobbing, him consoling her with it being nature's way and her body doing what it should, making inappropriate but-I've-been-there-to-just-get-through-it jokes about naming and giving the grandparents a picture of the passed tissue.

  

And I felt not only tears spring to my eyes, but sobs well in my throat as I make a sudden exit to our bedroom. And I sob. And sob. And sob. I don't even know what I'm crying about as I sit on the edge of our bed, rocking myself back and forth. I found myself rubbing my belly, and whispering aloud, "Please baby get here safe, please baby please, we love you so much." A good 15 minutes must have passed, and I could not pull myself together. I'm still crying when I find my husband in the kitchen, and finally find the words to what is happening. 

  

I'm still really sad about all that we've lost, and still really scared that we're going to lose this too.

  

And I've been off my game ever since. The constant underlying feeling of anxiety and fear is back. Instead of merely reveling in the little kicks and turns in my belly, I find myself craving ever more of them, needing more and more reassurance, fighting panic at every quiet moment.

  

If I take a good honest look at myself, it's probably not a coincidence that this has come at the end of a week where I finally brought myself to:

- preregister at the hospital

- sign up for the expectant parent classes

- agree to having a baby shower by my mom and SIL at end of October

- researching stores and items for a registry (since invites going out soon)

  

I was proud to have checked some things off my list, and had such ambitions for getting a good jump on the registry over this long weekend, not to mention doing some purging and cleaning around the house (the form my not-yet-nesting seems to be taking). Yeah, not so much of that happening now, back in this place where making preparations feels so scary and presumptuous. 

  

I also probably shouldn't ignore as a possible factor that the holiday weekend marks the 3rd anniversary of the due date of our first pregnancy, when I thought it was so cute and meant-to-be to be due on Labor Day. It's also the due date of our 3rd pregnancy, though I didn't think it was as cute the second time around, to be sure.

  

Not that I ever believed otherwise, but this weekend is driving home that there is no quick fix or "cure" for the battle wounds of RPL. That this healing is a delicate work in progress that cannot be rushed or taken for granted. I'm allowing myself to lay low and exercise a little self-preservation for the next few days, before trying once more to move forward, because baby boy deserves that.

This must be what it's like to have big boobs, and other ramblings from 24 weeks

I've been having trouble getting a coherent post together in my head, so I'm breaking down and going for the bullets. (Warning, this is mostly relatively sane (for me anyway) pregnancy talk so feel free to move right along if not up for it.)

• 24 weeks, 2 days. Still here. Still in awe and fear of our unexplained good fortune, but thankfully the fear has been less the past few weeks. I've generally been doing much better since our 20 week ultrasound, allowing myself to feel optimism and excitement and that this is real. And then finally at about 22.5 weeks I started feeling movement, real unmistakeable movement. A "pat pat pat" here, or a sudden big hard spot there. And not just in the one little spot high on my right side where I suspected I *might* be feeling movement the past few weeks, but all over in various places, sometimes 2 different sides at the same time which makes me imagine a big sideways stretch. The movement is amazing, reassuring, and making me fall in love with this little guy more every second. Please please please let these kicks continue, nice and consistently, to keep the crazies away.
• The doctor situation. I'm liking my doctor and the other doctors in the practice; everyone seems kind and competent and generally compassionate about our history. I came in every week for a heartbeat check from my first appointment at 14 weeks to my 20-week ultrasound, and somehow managed to stay sane enough to make it to my 24 week glucose test this morning. I chose my doc since I got some great referrals and knew that she also saw high-risk patients. But it took me a bit to get through my thick skull that I am being treated as a low-risk patient. Because to them I am - I don't have any history of trouble outside of the first trimester. So this means no more ultrasounds, 4 week turn on appointments, etc. It freaks me out to not be excessively monitored, but I don't really know what would even be appropriate to ask for at this point. I know I'm supposed to watch for signs of preterm labor -  excessive fluid or bleeding, pressure in the va-jay-jay, or contractions, and I've talked to my nurse about telling the difference between contractions (lower, like menstrual pain) and braxton hicks (higher, muscle-y, more tied to baby movement). Otherwise I'm trying to go with the flow, but the fear and worry that something catch-able isn't being caught is just under the surface most days. Any advice there from the vets??
• The belly. It's big. And my husband informed me that I now "look pregnant from the back too." (To be fair, I asked for it, requesting an honest assessment of how I looked in my new yoga pants.) And to explain my post title -- at work I've noticed since about 16 weeks the darting eyes when passing someone -- a quick hello eye-contact, then their eyes scan down to check out the belly quickly before moving on. As someone with no boobs (STILL!), I imagine this is kind of like the "eyes up here buddy" experience of having a chest worth checking out. Not that I can blame them - it's weird and strange to look so different in short spans of time. It's like how adults annoy little kids with "you've gotten so big!" commentary, since for adults we rarely change much. I have noticed, though, that just in the last week the comments from the peanut gallery have strayed from "you look so cute!" to "wow, you've gotten so big!" Hmmm. But truly I am just trying to embrace every second of it, as long as I can keep finding clothes in my closet that fit to get myself out the door each morning. Disturbingly some of the maternity clothes I bought like a month ago are too tight in the ass already. Thankfully I was smart enough to only buy summer stuff - will buy fall stuff on a "need to buy" basis only, when I need it at the size I need it, lesson learned.
• Stupid shit fertiles say, aka things I'm actually NOT worried about. So turns out "normal" pregnant people have fears too. As in, "I'm really worried about having an ugly baby." And "Every time I see a newborn I get panicked about what I'm getting myself into." For reals, these are things that have been said to me in the past 3 days. And then they look at me expectantly, looking for agreement or bonding or something. I managed to muster a blank stare back, when what I really wanted to do was give a WTF glare while saying, "Yeah, I'm just worried about having a baby that's ALIVE."
• Bad bloggie. I've generally been having a hard time keeping up with life. Dealing with nightly bouts of insomnia leaves me exhausted by the end of the work day, every day thinking "tomorrow I'll get around to ___" or "I'll do ____ next weekend," but those come and go and... nada. But please know that I keep up with posts on my phone and all of you are in my thoughts in your highs and lows.

Alrighty, hitting publish before another week gets away from me...

An anniversary to celebrate (and it's a....)

Last week was our 4th wedding anniversary, and for the first time in our marriage it felt like something to celebrate, instead of another painful reminder of what we still did not have.
  
All was well at our 20-week ultrasound appointment. As our doctor said, "this kiddo looks perfectly normal from head to toe." I had gotten myself totally worked up starting the night before the appointment, worse than I'd been in weeks. I realized that the kinda-sorta-not-even-sure movement I had started to feel a few days earlier had been absent that day, and it just tipped my nerves over the edge. Laid in bed that night, felt nothing. Stirred in the early morning hours, felt nothing. Got up for work, felt nothing. I flat out sobbed in the shower that morning, convinced that something had gone wrong, that we had lost our precious beat. I found myself imagining the appointment, getting bad news, what I would tell work, how I would tell my mom -- in a flash I was so far down this road mentally, and I was near hysterical. Everything I had been trying to suppress and manage these past few weeks just came to an ugly head.
  
But bless the ultrasound tech who right away eased my fears with "there's the heartbeat." And then next went in search of figuring out the gender. 
  
It's a boy. 
  
It took so long for this to sink in and become real. I was still on another planet just trying to calm myself down from hearing there's a heartbeat, and suddenly this abstract "pregnancy" was a real baby, a child, a boy. Right away I looked at my husband through my tears, just so happy for him, seeing him beaming like that. 
  
It was an overwhelming and emotionally exhausting day, but I can tell that I'm doing better since, that it's helped lift some of my mental block against believing this is real. I allowed my mom to take me shopping for maternity clothes (but still shut down and stammered when she tried to ask me about having a shower, if I planned to breast feed, etc. - one step at a time, mom!). I felt sane and genuinely happy while making my way through my baby-tour of a weekend - a new niece arrived on Friday in Mr. B's family, and I had already made plans to visit 3 girlfriends (2 from my IRL support group) who had had babies recently. I was able to muster small talk with strangers who offered congratulations and asked about due dates. For the first time, I didn't stow away our ultrasound photos into a drawer, but left them out on the kitchen table, falling in love with that little nose and hint of a smile a little more each time I passed it.
  
The fear is still there, looming and lurking. But I've allowed myself to feel some happiness and excitement at last. December 1st is still feeling so incredibly far away, but I'm so grateful to be where we are and will do my best to just keep getting to that next day, one day at a time.