Integration

I'm going to stop posting on this blog.

(I'll give you a moment to regain your breath. I hope you were sitting down when you read that!)

I took up residence here when I needed an outlet to talk about our struggles with secondary infertility. During the active stages of TTC, there's a lot to discuss. The daily mechanics of the treatments and the rollercoaster of emotions that accompanies them.

And at least for me, being pregnant and parenting after infertility does not completely silence the aches and pains of what we went through. Is life easier? Yes. Do I think about infertility every day? Hell yes.

Because I wouldn't be pregnant with twins right now if I didn't have trouble conceiving.

And I think about that. Constantly. Among the other ways I have been changed (for better and for worse) by my IF experience.

However.

In my first post, I talk about how this blog is a way to compartmentalize my infertility. Instead of allowing it to seep into every relationship, every thought, and every thing like I did the first time around -- I wanted to get it all out here and leave the joyful areas of my life alone. And I was able to do that with a fair amount of success, which was in no small part thanks to the fact that our journey to #2 and #3 has (so far) been incredibly less horrible than #1.

But I think it's time. For integration.

I will still be writing about parenting after infertility, because it is part of who I am just as much as my tendency to get bruises from bumping into furniture or my weakness for things that have glitter on them.

But I'm going to do it among other topics on my other blog, Sunny in Seattle.

I am probably jinxing myself in a huge cosmic way, not even being out of the first trimester yet. If (God forbid) something bad happens to this pregnancy, maybe I will revive this blog. But I'm doing my best to think positively, to focus on recovery instead of dwelling.

I hope you follow me to my other digs. But I understand if you don't, if that's not where you are right now. It feels rather counter-intuitive to close this blog, which gets more hits than my other one. However I can't manufacture more infertility posts than are truly in my heart, and although I still have much to express, it's not enough to support an entire blog at this point.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for commenting. Thank you for praying, wishing, supporting. Whatever you are striving for in your own life right now, I hope you find your great reward.

And as my Dad would say, I'll see you on the flip side.

Phew.... still two

Our patience was rewarded. With two strong, beautiful heartbeats. Hopefully no more spotting, no more scares.

They were still measuring ahead, this time six whole days. (Overachievers.) (Naturally.)

So my new due date is April 16, 2010.

That makes me 10 weeks along today.

Now let's see how much longer until I have the courage to stop the progesterone.

Sinking in and moving on

Life has been crazy in the past couple of weeks and it's hard to find a moment to blog! On top of that, my laptop has decided to be entirely uncooperative, I can't sneak hours moments online while Bean happily chucks his ball around the house. And with those excuses out of the way, a quick update.

The best news is that I haven't been spotting in at least a week now. Yippee! Of course there's still a drumroll in my head that accompanies every trip to the bathroom, which I'm guessing will continue throughout the duration of the pregnancy. But it adds that air of drama and anticipation to my day, so it's all good.

Despite the lack of spotting and the increased desire to hurl at every second, I am very nervous about my ultrasound later this week (which has been moved from Thursday to Friday, because again, needing drama and anticipation). I am mostly worried about Vanishing Twin Syndrome, which is when one of the twins... well, vanishes. Except it lacks the X-Files appeal that it may suggest. I am still freaking out about the prospect of double the newborn action, but I'm already attached to these two little blobs, and to only see one heartbeat on Friday -- let's just not talk about it.

I am slowly doing better as I process the likelihood that we will be a family of five in April. I no longer lay awake at night worrying, I manage to contain all of that to my waking hours. I am basically rewriting the future I see for our family. Because that's what we do all throughout infertility, right? Revising that timeline we so carefully crafted for our lives. First it starts on a small scale (from "I'll be pregnant by Christmas with the first of our eight kids" to "Well, maybe the first one by next Christmas") and then it gets bigger (to "I'll have two kids by 40, right?" then "FINE! ONE BY MENOPAUSE!"). In my case, of course, I am lucky to go in the opposite direction. Nevertheless, even though this is a huge blessing, I'm erasing and replacing how I pictured next year. And the year after, and the year after, and all the years until I have three adult children and I finally turn to DH and say, "Well, that wasn't so hard after all!" (Because I have a bad memory by then, of course.)

On the bright side, all of this worrying and processing has kept me from being bitter about the fact that I will never know what it's like to conceive a child without instructions to "don't forget to pay your outstanding balance on the way out." Or the fact that infertility has taken yet another thing from me -- the ability to grow my family one child at a time.

HOORAY FOR NOT BEING BITTER!

(Even if it's temporary)

And now for a question that has been weighing on my mind. Although I have no history of low progesterone, my doctor has me on these leaky lovely suppositories two times a day until I hit week 10. I am a mere 8 days from that milestone, and the thought of putting away the pill bottle makes my heart do little leaps of happiness in my chest. But I feel like weeks 10 and 11 are such a critical time, I'm nervous about stopping. I'm wondering: If you were on progesterone supplements following your IUI into a successful pregnancy, how long did your doctor have you take them?

The ungrateful infertile?

First, quick update on Spot Watch 2009. It comes and goes, but it's always very light when it's here. I still feel like complete crap, so I'm trying to remain positive that there are still two healthy beanlets in there. Anxiously awaiting next Thursday to see them again. All of your comments make me feel much better, thank you.

*****

It's hard to post on this blog about my struggles with processing the news that we are pregnant with twins. Because many of the people who read it are still in the IF trenches. Which sucks a lot more than the worry about how I will manage to gestate and care for two babies at the same time. I don't want to sound... ungrateful. Because DEAR LORD am I grateful. There was a time I thought I would never be a mother. Never know what it was like to parent a child with my beloved husband.

Now, God willing, I will hopefully be the mother of three in seven short months.

I even remember those first weeks of pregnancy with Bean. Harboring the secret hope that there would be twins, because HOORAY! we wouldn't have to go through treatment again to reach our goal of having two kids. Literally, two for the price of one. That would be convenient, no?

But in reality, having twins is not just a fun bonus. There are serious risks to my health and the health of the babies. And when they are born -- well, it was hard enough to breastfeed and stay up all night with one infant, I shudder to think about handling two. The sleep deprivation was more horrible than I ever imagined. Worth it? Of course. But not romantic and cute, as it seemed before.

And it's not like I can call my Mom or MIL when I'm feeling stressed. "Hey guys, can one of you hop on a plane and fly across the country to watch the kiddos so I can shower for five minutes? Super thanks, bye!"

After the initial burst of help, I am going to be on my own, all day, alone with three children under the age of two and a half. I worry constantly (day and night) about how I will handle that, and how it will affect my son, who is never happier than when he's snuggled into my arms.

I realize that this is the direct result of choices I made. The choice to begin treatment again so soon. The choice to continue with the IUI, knowing there was a chance for twins or triplets. I accept responsibility. But that doesn't mean it's not difficult.

When I first started thinking about having newborn twins and a two year old, I began second-guessing my decision to try for another child. I mean, we are a happy family right now, the three of us. After overcoming our initial incompetence at parenthood, DH and I made up some ground and have fallen into a great rhythm. It doesn't feel like another child is missing from our lives, that we are incomplete or unfinished.

I had to remind myself why we wanted several children in the first place. Because although right now, at 18 months old, our son needs nothing more than his mommy, daddy, and a big stick to drag around the yard -- he will eventually want more socialization. Unfortunately, with the distance from our families, he will not have cousins to bond with. The people we have met through our various activities are really fantastic, but we think he will benefit from having siblings close in age. I have one brother, and DH has three siblings. We both have wonderful memories of growing up with them, and we want that for Bean, too.

Prior to this round of treatment, DH and I had actually talked about having three kids, revising our initial plan of two once we realized how much our son rocks. I thought DH was just wanting to further postpone getting the big snip-snip (he's not a huge fan of the concept), but he assured me that's not the case. And the big grin he gets when he whispers, "father of three" -- well, that's enough to convince me. We of course hoped to manage this one baby at a time, but beggars can't be choosers. DH's wholehearted excitement over the prospect of twins has helped my own acceptance, I'm just hoping that I am confident enough to calm him when he inevitably gets to his own freak-out stage.

So although I'm fearful that I won't escape the first 12 months with my sanity, there's really so little of it left anyway that it won't be a great loss. We will survive, and seeing how much easier things become as my son learns new tricks skills, I can see a future where I might actually function as a human being once more.

I do, however, reserve the right to completely panic about the twinklets throughout the duration of my pregnancy, and for an indefinite time afterwards. In fact, I plan on it.

But please always know that this infertile is eternally grateful for this opportunity, if scared out of her mind.

Holding on

My pregnancy with Bean was pretty easy. As easy as carrying an extra 40+ pounds and having your internal organs pummelled all day (and night) can be, at least.

Sadly, these twinklets seem to not have the mercy of their brother, so far at least.

The spotting continues.

Ugh.

It was light at first, I was determined not to be worried. Then it got -- well, I'll spare you the details, but it was bad enough to be worrisome yesterday.

Now it's back to being light and less concerning.

But still.

My RE said I can come in today for another ultrasound, if I need the reassurance. But it would be quite an effort to get me and Bean downtown, plus DH would want to take off work to join me -- and as important as the twinklets are, there's nothing that can be done at this point anyway other than calm my nerves, so we are doing our best to stay positive and wait out the weekend.

On the bright side (I guess?), I feel stronger morning sickness today than I have previously. I constantly have the urge to hurl, I can hardly force any food down my throat. Hooray?

My next ultrasound is scheduled to be September 17, just under two weeks away.

Holding on.

Two heart(beat)s are better than one

Thank you all for your prayers and positive thoughts.

They must have worked.

I'm pregnant with twins.

Two beating hearts, two babies measuring right on track.

YIPPEE!! and OH SHIT!!

The irony is not lost on me. The infertile ends up with more children than in her "plans." (Thinking positively that they'll both come home, of course.)

Well played, universe.

And thank you.

The waiting game

I wish I could say I haven't been posting because I've been off dancing in Pregnancy Heaven. Blissfully designing the nursery, eagerly speculating about the gender, and just generally GLOWING as I go about my merry day.

But no. It's Pregnancy Hell.

I am finding this first trimester infinitely more difficult than when I was pregnant with Bean. The main reason for this is probably denial -- or more accurately, the lack of it. Last time, my brain took its time accepting the fact that there was, indeed, a small life growing inside my tummy. Because, again, stuff like that just didn't happen for me.

But this time, it seems more within reach. I did gestate, and quite successfully, a 9 lb. 14 oz. child for a full 40 weeks. It is possible, my brain is more prepared for this.

And also, last time the thought of an actual BABY at the end of the pregnancy was quite nebulous. I couldn't imagine what it would be like, holding MY baby, taking him home, feeding him, changing him, loving him with more of my heart than I knew existed. It was far away and foreign. But this time, I am more focused on that moment. Meeting my child and welcoming him/her into the family. My heart is more on the line, knowing what I could lose.

My ultrasound is tomorrow.

Today, I started spotting.

My doctor, predictably, is not worried. (How nice for him!) It's fairly common for women to experience this during the first trimester, it doesn't always mean Bad Things... of course I do know this. But it's not a comfort. Every moment between now and 11:30 am tomorrow is painful. I can't get comfortable, I can't relax.

I am preparing for the worst.

And it sucks.