Life between ultrasounds

Disclaimer: this post is about pregnancy and the stuff that goes along with it. Please feel free to not read beyond this point if it bothers you. I know that when I was TTC, the last thing I wanted to read about was someone whining about their pregnancy symptoms. My intention is not to hurt any one of you, nor is it to exhibit my inner brat. It’s been a challenging few days and I’m just chronicling that here. I continue to pray for each and every one of you and nothing would give me greater happiness than to see you all become mommies!










When there’s too much to say, bullet points it is:

1. I’ve been trying to finish this post since forever. There are many reasons why it has stayed unfinished, listed here in no particular order

(i) I get overcome by nausea/ held up by puking

(ii) I am so tired I can only imagine my fingers typing on the keyboard

(iii) I begin to write about my nausea and it makes me gag

(iv) I start feeling anxious about my pregnancy and I wonder whether I should be blogging about it at all

(v) I feel like I have so much to say and don’t know where to start

(vi) I feel like I lack the ability to articulate what I’m really feeling

(vii) See (i)

2. My nausea started in full force at 5 1/2 weeks. The night before my first ultrasound (6.5 weeks) I threw up for the first time. The next two weeks were agony. I was in constant discomfort, gagging, dry heaving or puking. I was still (amazingly enough) eating a fair bit but the nausea was non-stop. It was like a crazy force within me kept urging me to eat, eat and eat. My doc started me on diclegis, upping it to 3 a day but all it did was help me sleep through the night.

3. (THIS IS SERIOUS TMI, SO CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED!!) Around the 8 week mark my doc took pity on me and prescribed Zofran. One pill in and the nausea reduced. The puking almost stopped. Well, so did everything else. The medicine completely and absolutely shut down my system… never have I experienced such severe constipation. I have been eating like a starving castaway just back from a deserted island but it just all sits there. I cried to my doc; he asked me to take an enema. Poor K didn’t know which one to get so he got the mineral oil type. Bad mistake. It did nothing except make me feel utterly grossed out. I called and cried to doc again. He asked me to repeat it. No dice. Off we went to the ER. One shot of lactulose and there was some movement. Then it was strike time again. Thanks to the lovely ladies on my FB board, I finally caved in and upped my fluids intake and started taking daily miralax. It seems to have finally started working a bit. Fingers crossed. The things I pray for nowadays!

4. In prepping to become a mommy I think for some time I, amusingly enough, reverted to being a baby myself. I could only eat mushy foods, threw up whatever didn’t agree with my tummy, moaned and wailed a lot and my bowel movements were the highlight of our daily conversations. The only thing that has changed in all this is that I am eating much more diversely and I’ve stopped wailing quite as much.

5. Our next ultrasound is this coming week. At the 8 week u/s baby was measuring 8w1d on 8w3d (which is consistent with the first u/s) and had a heartbeat of 171 bpm. CCRM was happy with the measurements. I hope baby continues to grow strongly and I worry incessantly before every ultrasound.

6. I confess I still haven’t fully absorbed the reality of being pregnant. I remain cautious and in constant ‘watching over the shoulder’ mode. I don’t know if this will change. It doesn’t, however, take away from how incredibly thankful I feel on an everyday, every moment basis.

7. In the not-so-long-time that we’ve been married, I’ve come to know, appreciate and cherish what a wonderful human being my husband is. 3 years of IF struggles only brought us closer and strengthened the love and respect we have for each other. But this pregnancy has shown me like nothing before how incredibly patient, giving and loving he really is. I haven’t been able to even enter the kitchen, let alone cook for the past 1.5 months and he has juggled bringing me meals, going to office, taking me for my appointments and much, much more with no complaints. He also tolerates my sudden flareups with amazing grace. He rubs my back gently when I have trouble digesting my food, holds my hand when I sit up in bed at night, overcome by nausea and wakes me up every single day with a smile, a hug and my currently favorite breakfast–cucumber slices with gluten free bread! I thank God every day for blessing me with the companionship of this wonderful human being. Makes the several crappy years before I met him so, so worth it!

8. I’m addicted to food. I eat and about an hour later my body has no memory of having eaten. Everything I eat tends to disappear somewhere within the confines of my newly bottomless tummy. Sometimes I wonder how much weight I’ll end up putting on at this rate. I was a skinny 95 pounder when we began so a little bit of weight won’t hurt I suppose!

9. I have boobs! Overnight they went from the ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ variety to the ‘omg look who’s got boobies’ type. No complaints here! Me likey 🙂

10. There’s some real nice stuff happening on the blogs lately. It really warms my heart. I continue praying for my blogger friends who are still struggling and I know that soon enough they will all be on the other side. That will be one heck of a wonderful feeling.



I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I knew it wouldn’t be stress-free. I knew there would be fear. I knew there would be worry. I was ready for it all (or was I?). That’s why, when the past two weeks brought some highly unnecessary stress in the form of some troublesome immune panels and a suddenly aggressive OB constantly putting me in the unenviable position of making hard choices (esp. considering my CCRM doctor is on the other extreme of the ‘believe in immunology’ spectrum), I wasn’t too surprised. Not happy, of course. But not surprised. Almost, perversely, relieved. I felt as long as it was just that little bit hard, it would be okay.

When the nausea hit me last week, I welcomed it with open arms. I’ve been relentlessly, 24/7 sick since a whole week now. I wake up nauseous, I sleep nauseous. I eat a bit, it abates. For about 30 minutes. Then, off we go again. I feel like I’m watching my own body from outside as it panders to the whims of this invisible dictator. But I don’t complain. Not just because I feel it might indicate that ‘stuff is happening’, but also because I’m used to having it hard. I’m used to slaving my butt off for what I want. That’s usually when I get results. So every morning I dutifully wake up and try my damnedest not to let my churning tummy get the better of me as my hubby injects me with PIO/ lovenox. It’s baby food, I reason.

I met a friend the other day. Someone who knows of my struggles. She walked into my bedroom and saw my ‘stash’ of syringes, needles, patches, suppositories etc. She told me I’m so brave. I felt like she was being exaggeratedly complimentary. I felt embarrassed. I’m not brave, I told myself. I’m just a mom, doing everything she can for her baby.

And that’s my soft spot. For all the treatment, the maniacal preparation, the doc visits, the shots, the blood draws and the ‘I’ve got to be ready for anything’ attitude, fact is that I’m so deep in it already. I keep telling myself I’m not involved but who the heck am I kidding? I might not sing lullabies to my little lentil sized wonder or constantly rub my tummy in gentle wonderment but I would be lying through my teeth if I said I’m anything less than madly in love. I might gently chide my husband as he wonders if we will have a girl or a boy but secretly, I look for names when he isn’t watching.

Which brings us to tomorrow. Tomorrow-my first ultrasound. The day when things fell apart last time. I so badly want to believe that it will go well tomorrow. It takes but a few seconds of quiet contemplation about what tomorrow means for me to start squirming in intense nausea-induced agony as my heart beats fast and my mind tries hard to calm it down.



Cautiously excited!

After the longest 9 days of my life which were spent agonizing over every little twinge and twitch and desisting from peeing on a stick, I finally did the deed right after getting my blood drawn for my first beta. Three different tests, all telling me I am pregnant! CCRM confirmed my pregnancy shortly thereafter. Here are the numbers:

9dp5dt: 351

11dp5dt: 892

Thanks to all of you who wrote to me. Means the world to me that you cared enough to want to find out.

Tomorrow’s an unknown but today, I am pregnant and I fill my heart with this knowledge!