The prenatal appointment is set for March 12th. So we have 2 more weeks to go. I forgot how torturous this wait is.
The worst part is actually the progesterone injections. I’m on day 26 of injections and I think I have 15 more to go. Hopefully they’ll let my stop but I think they make you go until 10 weeks. Which will mean another 10 on top of the 15. I don’t know if my maths is correct here but either way it’s a lot. But I’ve done it before and I will do it as long as I need to but boy does it suck. I can barely sit down. I am doing the ice before and heat after but my butt is worn out. I’m think of going into my thigh but I’m a little afraid of that.
The other thing is that I’m not feeling any notable symptoms. My nips tingle for a few minutes when I wake up and throughout the day I have about 5 waves of nausea and One or two tugs in the uterus area. I also feel like I’m bleeding every few minutes uggh. But nothing that can’t be attributed to the medication. My mind is completely fucked.
I am testing everyday like a crazy person and that’s really the only assurance I have and in all honesty, it’s not really that assuring.
I cried in therapy last week. I can’t even say the word that starts with P. Like I have a mental block when it comes to that word. I told my therapist that I had told a friend that I want to enjoy this time as much as possible, almost to the point of being obnoxious because I didn’t have that experience with Lucky, and as soon as I said it I took it back. It wasn’t the time to be excited. It’s too soon.
I cried when I explained that I can’t utter the words and when people asked for more information (due dates and whether I wanted a boy or girl) that my guts go cold and my hands get sweaty.
The day when we found out the second beta, I was at B’s house while we were sitting outside and our sons played in the sand box. After the excitement died down she said I should tell her son. I immediately forgot how to speak English. I blustered and stuttered and eventually spat out that Hey O! Guess what, Lucky might be getting a baby sister or brother. I wanted to throw up. The news wasn’t really received well anyway. Little O wants a sibling too but his mom isn’t about that life right now. I guess I should have reworded it but I was trying not to throw up all over him and deck.
I had also started to write thank you cards to the three nurses at work who administered shots for me. I stood for 30 minutes at Target choosing the right cards and chocolates. I started writing one card and quickly tore it up because I didn’t want to jinx anything. When I told my therapist this I broke down. It’s just a card. Jinxes aren’t real.
I ended up wording the cards very carefully. Using coded language like “so far so good” and “For now, it worked”. All I really wanted was to convey my thanks and it became a whole thing. One of the cards, I wrote and re-wrote and cut up 3 times before settling on something that sounds grateful yet guarded.
This morning one of the nurses came down to my cube and whisper screamed and waved her hands in the air and danced in a circle and hugged me (shhh lady, my boss is literally 5ft away). She asked for the due dates and again my stomach clenched up and I wanted to run away. But after she left I had a massive smile on my face and for a quick second I felt I’d done the right thing. I felt excited and I guess what one would consider normal in these circumstances.
That second has passed now and I’m back to feeling dread and impending doom. It would suck to have to give her bad news after she practically lifted me out of my chair.
I guess all I’m trying to say is that I would like to get off this part of the ride. I’d like to be on the part of the ride where it’s still scary as hell but I have a proof of life and maybe some morning sickness.
15 days to go.