rummage sale

The big lutheran church had it’s fall sale. We went to the dollar a bag day. Not much pickin’s but I got a necklace in silver that looks similar to the one Gram left me. And I got a sheer black with white stripe georgette blouse, the Fertility Cycles book (it’s a good nutrition book, even though I probably won’t be doing the fertility thing again – that I bought it is an odd thing), and some plastic wine glasses for the office. But the piece de resistance was on the way back, the big brick Victorian had a yard sale – so we got a wicker furniture set for our front office. It matches perfectly. Rummage sales make my day. And it’s a busy one, so I’d better get crackin. (I’m feeling better, can’t you tell?) Though I’m a bit nervous morning sickness has left, I know at 10 wks it starts to ebb, as the placenta takes over and HCG levels off. I’m still very tired, and right now it’s the IVIg making me feel like I’ve got something coming. Friend M (paging Dr. M) sez CD4 is response to a virus, and she had a cold when she saw me last. She’s such a great friend like that. Who else would google my immune markers and help me think rationally through this pregnancy?

wave to me, baby

On ultrasound this week not only did we hear a good strong heart beat (with a few moments of panic, on my part at least, while the doctor had a hard time zeroing in to the right spot) but we saw lots of moving around. She said “it would be easier if the baby stopped moving for a second”. Indeed. A little hand, left hand, poked out and wavered around, all five fingers clearly visible. The photo is remarkable. But still, the doc remains noncommittal “we take this week by week, at the end of your first trimester we will assess your risk”. Okay. I’m cool with that. I had IVIg b/c my killer cells had shot up to 17.4, my highest yet (but still two points only above my preconception and early preg numbers).

It rarely occurs to me, but I am really pregnant. And I believe I’ll give birth to this baby (alive). Wow.

merciful sleep

Thank goodness. I slept from 8pm to 7:00am, almost nearly through (I did have to drink some milk at 1am). I even had normal dreams, something I cannot recall recently. I felt fabulous. I look great – brown CJ knit jacket, pink tee, brown banana republic trousers, my warriors in pink scarf tying my hair back. My face is glowing. I look pregnant, even standing in clothes now. It will be hard to hide this for very much longer. A wrap over my outfit for the cool morning and I’ll be ready for the busy day I have.

show

this morning I put on the hieroglyphic tee I’ve had since the late 80s. I love it but rarely wear it. It is, however roomy. But as I’m walking the dog, I’m conscious that this shirt does not lay flat below my belly, it swings out over my pants and it’s pretty obvious to me that I’m beginning to show. I weigh exactly the same as when i started this. the pants, wide leg linen, have a low waist which is pushed down low because I cannot have anything across the belly right now. And as I sit at my desk, it’s definitely poufing out. If someone who knew pregant women walked in, they’d know right away.

It helps calm me down. this baby was doing, in the words of the doc, great. Limb buds, moving around, waving it’s limbs, heart beating at a strong 176bpm. I’m there in 48 hours’ time. and if it must be, I’ll get a dopplar and check at home.

reassurance

what I really want is a web site with medical journal articles that reassure me that this baby will live. Statistically 98% of recurrent miscarriers past 9w carry to term if they have a heartbeat. I have a 96% chance. And then I read a casual post about someone who, at 10w, is home with a m/c. But then I realize I know nothing about her. Did she just go in at 10w? Had she seen a h/b? Has she miscarried before? Who is her doctor? What conditions does she have? Has she been diagnosed?

Okay, so statistics don’t always lie. My chances are good. My hcg was high, predictive value: 100%. This week I’ll be 9+5. Next week 10+5. Let’s count ‘em down, now, three weeks left. I imagine them sliding by, fast, good news every week. I feel queasy a lot of the time. Good news.

working at it every day

I have to work at quelling the panic every single minute practically. But rationally, it’s not that hard. One baby is far safter than two. The one baby was definitely looking great. Sounding great. I’m there again in three days. My bbs and belly look and feel pregnant. I’m resting as much as I can. One baby gives me the chance at a full term pregnancy. I think I’ll go lie down on the couch, not feeling super terrific.

one

There is just one. Baby A. Baby B. died at 8+2 (about Sunday or Monday). Dr. C sez it’s not systemic, but genetic. And as she was moving the wand around, I could see baby A, his/her heartbeat, and some movement. Baby B was round, indistinct and not moving. She didn’t say anything, she squeezed and patted my knee and shook her head. I knew.

So this explains the reason why I dreamed of nursing only one baby. And this interjected a level of fear back into this process that I thought we’d left behind.

Today I went to the bead store (still in chicago). To make something and surround myself with something beautiful. I can make beauty in the midst of sorrow. Peach aventurine rectangle beads with small gold spacers and coppery freshwater pearls. It’s beautiful, and I managed to spend $64 at a bead store. But worth it. I got enough to make many gifts and it’s just a solace to pick out something beautiful and to think of new things to make, amidst this sadness.

I am thinking more about the baby we have. He/she is no less loved because his/her twin isn’t here. In fact, more. And he/she looked good, doctor termed the baby “great”. 96% chance of survival she said. But i live in the 1%, or I have up to now. So I’m hopeful, and savoring. I stopped into the ballet store, knowing full well dance is 7 months away for me, but it was nice to see and think about dance. I’ll start yoga in November.

I’m almost 9 weeks (tomorrow), baby A looks great, and I am very, very hopeful for a good outcome. G. was here with me last night and laid down to spend some time with me alone before going back down to visit with his parents and friend C. I could cling to him like glue for weeks after this.

got in early

I’ve been getting to work early to get right to work, so this is a very unusual diversion. Yesterday at lunch client/friend R. asked how being pg was. I said, unless I’m in chicago, I rarely think of it. In fact, I usually go about my business as if nothing’s different. But even now I’m realizing even my desk (my keyboard tray) will need adjustment, my belly was hitting it in my normal spot! so there are increasing signs that make it hard to not acknowledge it. i do, late in the night, or say, in the shower, where I can rest my hands on my belly and tell my children to grow healthy. Every now and again I have a moment of panic. But like I told a friend, I don’t really want to know how hard it is with one kid – because I need to be blissfully ignorant enough to just do it with two and not realize *just* how hard it is!

It’s kind of like pregnancy loss. You shouldn’t have to think about it if you don’t have to. I’d say I’m feeling better but I’m feeling a bit queasy all of a sudden (so I’ll go get water and lay down for a moment).

Holding back my hair

As I’m throwing up what’s left of the ill-planned apple I ate (my cousin: “eat fruits and vegetables”, yeah) I’m thinking, okay things must really be fine if I am now yakking up second breakfast. Grandma’s crackers (bless her heart) were just the ticket after work. But you know I’m not upset, I don’t complain and I go to work, do my job. This is what I asked for, this is what I paid tens of thousands of dollars for. Though that last one makes me laugh in a way. Here I am paying for the priviledge of throwing up every day for a month (or whatever it ends up being).

Of course the price I paid to get here was high, higher than most people would be willing to spend. Was it worth it? I don’t know, how much are children ‘worth’? I think the next time someone asks me that I’ll ask right back. If it were you, would you have done it? Three years ago I’d have probably said no. But that was before I got sucked into this quagmire. Where there is no end to desperation and it feeds on itself, month after month.

But where I am, as a person, now, is not there. I didn’t come to this point by slogging and exhaustion. I came after a three month period of rest, calmness, serenity and peace. And I must remember to call Dr. T. this week, I keep forgetting.

I’m tired and I’m sure not having my nap today has not helped. G. will make dinner, I’ll help him with client work and then I’ll do my pack list for the weekend and turn in.

I went surfing

for vintage maternity patterns. But then I realized I don’t want vintage volume, I want vintage style with modern bump showing. And then i realized I really wanted the maternity pattern high-risk pregnancy following miscarriage blog site. You know a fellow soul sister who was at that teetering edge between wanting so much to show things off in a few weeks, and so fearful if she lets herself dream, the dream will be shattered like the last few times.

In short, I wanted my own blog. Because, though i don’t think I’m totally unique, I think the chances of a recurrent miscarrier, pregnant with twins, big fashionista and passionate sewist probably is pretty rare. But I don’t feel like sewing. I’m exhausted, I don’t feel well and it’s great. I did do some crocheting for a while, but my nausea has returned, and I’m thinking I’d better eat something now.

I know this will pass, and I know I’ll find a way to integrate my passion for craft with raising twins. It’s just in my nature to do this.