I don’t really know what to do with myself. Disastrous thinking is creeping in and I’m like “GET THE FUCK OUT”.
Even so, I don’t really know how to do this. I don’t know when to get the baby blanket out. Or when to sign up for the babyce.nter emails about the pregnancy. Or when to tell everyone. I put a ticker up, but whenever I look at it I wonder if I am tempting fate. Pregnancy after miscarriage? It feels so totally different than it did last time. It is not unabashed, and when someone said “congratulations”, I thought: Jesus, woman, congratulate me when we have a healthy baby in my arms.
Every ten minutes I look at the positive tests, disbelieving. I really don’t get it. I can’t grasp that this test means that we will have a baby…and it really doesn’t mean that. It means S is pregnant – this moment. Today. Today she is pregnant. Hallelujah.
So I have a ticker, and we told some people. We have not ‘celebrated’. Maybe we should. It just feels weird, and it is so.freaking.early.
Then there is THE STUFF. I have 3 different brands of OPKs, a Clearbl.ue Fert.ility Monitor, Monitor sticks, Pr.eSeed, a million cheapie HPTs, a thermometer, and our insem bag full of cups, paper towels, syringes, OPKs and among other crap. Charts of what to take and when to take it. The Clomid pamphlets, the progesterone information sheets from miscarriage pregnancy, and various printed charts and articles. Then there is the weird stuff I save, like the little fertility figurine someone gave me when I got pregnant (and that worked so well we have been lugging that thing to every insem since), and the small vial that the frozen sperm came in along with the paperwork showing the motility and other manly sperm stats. Not to mention pee sticks from this or that time that I might need to reference for whatever reason. Gross, I know. I realize that my accumulation of paraphernalia is nothing compared with an IVF drug spread, but still. It is a hefty amount of fertility related crap.
Sitting on our dresser, in our bookshelf, and on our dining room table.
All neatly categorized into wicker boxes and small Ike.a containers. TTIW (The Time It Worked) it took me weeks to come to the place where I could throw some of it away and neatly pack away the rest. By 7 weeks I was ruminating a post in my head asking when I should donate all of the remaining useful items.
Haha. Silly me.
I am certainly not so naive now, but do I really want it all sitting on my dresser? No I don’t. Will it cause a miscarriage to give it away? No it won’t. But will we need it again? I can’t say we won’t. Maybe the best I can do is pack it up and store it somewhere, but I have to say that getting that shit out of storage was one of the more painful things I did after the miscarriage. It was dreadful. So for now, everything is sitting in it’s place, untouched by news of pregnancy. Suspended in time. WTF said that when I am ready to move it I will know.
Today, S’s period is due, and she feels like it is coming. This happened TTIW too, but I still can’t believe she won’t bleed. I can’t believe we are not planning another trip to WTFs in 10 days.
You know what was satisfying though? Calling our OBGYN to tell them the news. Really good. I called to ask if S can have a beta.
So how are we doing? Today we are happy she is pregnant. Today I am holding my breath, afraid to exhale and see the whole thing disappear. Like if I move to quickly I will scare the little ball of cells right out of her uterus. I am still in shock. But the throwing of the caution to the fucking wind part felt really good the other night…
Today I am sitting here typing, and my wife is pregnant, and it is so unfuckingbelievably great, and I am totally terrified.