Well, our first OB appointment is three days away now. THREE. Which means we have known I'm pregnant less than three weeks already. I can't believe that in less than three weeks, I can experience so many emotions about this baby.
If I'm honest, I will say that I've done my best to stay disconnected from this pregnancy. It seems too surreal, and too scary to embrace it. What if the appointment follows the same story line as Wren's appointment? My second 'first appointment' was a heart breaker, going in at nine weeks with tons of symptoms and no bleeding only to be told there was 'no heartbeat.' The miscarriage that proceeded that appointment was nothing short of a nightmare. And then my third pregnancy, Cecelia's pregnancy, included a frightening first appointment as well. That time I was only six weeks along and bleeding heavily, so the first ultrasound was basically a shock of a lifetime. We saw a heartbeat and our daughter fighting off a giant bleed in my uterus. She won the battle, of course, but that first trimester shaped me just as much as my loss. It's just amazing that when I wasn't bleeding I lost the baby, and when I was profusely bleeding she ended up being just fine. Sometimes life doesn't make sense. I like the fact that I'm not bleeding right now but it's actually not all that comforting, either.
Truman's first appointment was amazing, though. Maybe I need to hold onto 2009 and let go of 2011 a bit here.
For every second I've spent pushing this baby and the upcoming appointment out of my mind, I've spent an equal amount of time feeling the magic of the first few weeks of a pregnancy. Only a teeny tiny bit of magic compared to the dread and the worry and the sickness and the fear. But still. There is something undeniably magical about growing a tiny baby from a few cells right inside my body. Keeping it a secret to most of the world, not showing off a baby bump, dreaming and planning and getting attached. It's all new and magical even if it's also terrifying.
Because, oh, I've had symptoms this time. They mean nothing in relation to how the appointment will go on Tuesday, but they are there, just the same. My poor boobs, only getting a few weeks off from breastfeeding before I got pregnant, hurt in the shower. Thy might be a little less 'deflated water balloon' and a little more 'going to get huge again'. Love moving from being a 13 year old boy to a 13 year old girl in the chest region!
I got hit with The Fatigue to the point that I have to nap every single day when I'm home, and I am paralyzed to the world as I crash on the couch for hours midday. I would be dead if Truman didn't still nap and if I worked full time at my home care job, that is for sure. I'm queasy and downright nauseous a lot of the days, too. Food sounds disgusting and I have to force myself to eat, brushing my teeth makes me gag, and I cannot even drink decaff coffee. I know. This is a sign that my world is seriously upside down! I've had a few days at work that I've talked myself out of barfing in a patient's home. Think cigarette smoke plus air fresheners combined in an overly HOT house. OMG. This was almost as torturous as my dental exam earlier in the week. I thought I was going to dry heave all the way home after that minty flavor stuck to my teeth, and the poking/proding of my mouth was almost too much to handle. My patience is dangerously thin with the kids. It's not their fault that all I want to do is sleep and or contemplate puking, but it's really hard to be 'on' with them right now. Sorry kids. I promise another sibling will be worth it if you can stick it out with me here.
I don't remember being this sick before, with classic morning sickness that comes and goes but can last all day. I'm hungry but I'm not. I have raging headaches and raging hormones that are to blame for raging mood swings. One minute I'm near tears over a commercial and the next I could breath fire over Truman stealing a toy from his sister. I'm just so tired. And scared. And happy. Ah, the first tri is so much fun.
The absolute sense of dread seems to be lessening as time goes on. I'm somewhere between seven and eight weeks pregnant right now, and within the last week I've somehow managed to feel mostly positive about the outcome of Tuesday. I have no idea how this optimism happened but I like it. I hope it doesn't come back to bite me on the butt and yet I know in my heart that no amount of worrying could 'prepare' me for the pain of a loss. It won't make it any easier if it happens. So why not enjoy the moment? Enough of the defense mechanism of imagining a loss. It doesn't help, as I learned before.
Mantras like 'just do the next thing' have gotten me through some long days. I can't get overwhelmed with all that needs in a given day, while battling nausea and intense fatigue. Just do the next thing. Drive to work. Get it done. Drive home. Move on. And besides that, my all time favorite mantra of 'Today I am pregnant and I love my baby' is something that runs through my mind more frequently than any of the times before. I do love this baby. I want this baby. I have a place in my heart for this baby. God provided this gift of a baby and it's His plan after that. I pray that His plan includes taking this child home with us in July. But if not, we will survive. We've done it before and we could do it again.
Dare I say it? I feel good about the first appointment. I embrace this pregnancy. My last pregnancy. The fourth time around for this first appointment is every bit as intense and special and maddening as the first. But here we are and only time will tell.