Well, here I am, on the eve of the brink of my 18th week. It’s been quite the journey now, since I’ve been sick with some sort of illness ever since my egg transfer. First a cough that gave tuberculosis a run for it’s money, then a runny nose, a sore throat, the stomach flu, a urinary infection, a yeast infection and topping it all off with what I thought was the scary flu, with full on fever. How in the world does one person manage to get that sick in merely 18 weeks you may ask? I’m thinking the exact same thing. To add to that, I’m still on this rollercoaster of pregnancy. Feeling scared at any given moment for anything really. My doctor did say that because of the IVF, this pregnancy is going to feel like it’s a year long. And when I stopped to think about it, it will be a year since we started the journey when we deliver and almost a year from when we started the shots. Crazy!
The plus side of being so sick is that I’ve been going to my doctor once a week and I get to hear her magnificent heartbeat. Which in itself can be daunting, because of my low hanging abdominal wall (or what I affectionately call “my ledge”) (c-section moms know what the ledge is, lol). The doctors, bless their hearts, try hearing the heartbeat on my ledge and that is fat, people!…like a flap of fat!…there’s no heartbeat in there!…so they move it around and try a different spot, that is still on the ledge, and…nothing. Now I’m tense, even though this has happened at least three times now. Then, as horrifying as it is, I lift the ledge up, mortified, and they move it directly over my c-section scar, and there it is, clear as day, a strong beautiful heartbeat. 145 bpm. Lovely.
I’m tired, a lot, and my hopes and ambitions leave more desire in my dreams than in real life. Baby girl’s room is going to be what is currently my art studio. It is packed to the brim with stuff. My stuff, my plans for selling toys, everything is in here since it has turned into somewhat of a junk room. I try selling toys every time I get a chance, but some things just aren’t moving, leaving an array of crap in this space. What I decided to do was install a closet system in our master closet, in a space we didn’t use, so my husband ripped down the old shelf and clothes rail and patched and painted the wall. I installed the system last night and began transferring things from my studio to this system. I feel like a poured a thimble of water on an out of control fire. But, little by little, I know it will get done.
My middle child had major surgery a few days ago and it is challenging with him being so needy. He has casts on both of his legs and has to be in a wheelchair for about 6 weeks. I am trying to get so much done around the house while I’m home this week with him but it’s a challenge.
Work has been rough, because my job, which can be pretty physical, has been changing lately. And now, my boss is requiring my team to help do receiving in the mornings if they need help. Which is basically a lot of bending, twisting, lifting heavy things to stock the shelves. I helped the first day and I tweaked my back, it hurt bad ever since. Like so bad that I would get home from work and lay flat in bed because it hurt to breath. I finally got to see my massage therapist and she helped me tremendously, I also asked my husband to help massage the knots out and he did a pretty good job. Nonetheless, my back is still hurting a lot. One of the things they don’t tell you about IVF is that I have been experiencing nerve damage in my lower back from all the shots. It causes twinges and twitches that run down my legs uncontrollably, it causes spasms directly on those spots that are reminiscent of those dozens and dozens of prickly pokes. I feel like those are things that will never go away, things that seem permanent. The two-inch circles plotted on my backside are tender and painful to touch. When will that go away? I can’t imagine women who go through multiple rounds of IVF, poking and poking the exact spots constantly. Warriors, I tell you, warriors.
Every time I go to the doctor they ask if I’ve felt the baby yet…they say since I’ve been pregnant, usually I would notice it sooner than new moms. Well, nothing. Not one flutter, not one kick. Until a couple days ago. When I’m pretty sure I felt something. A little something, small but something. I wish it would have been sooner, but, I’ll take it.
So, here I am, listening to my middle child act belligerent because he’s on narcotics and I’m trying to get some sort of peace to complete this evening. Lord help me.