Don't Listen To Doctors

... as Mr. Right would say.

I think I'm not alone in being terrified of this pregnancy... For this pregnancy... About this pregnancy. Other women must worry that something will go wrong, right?

As a Type 1 Diabetic I have many, many additional worries and challenges and complications: my blood sugar needs to remain as stable as possible at all times, because extreme and extended highs and lows can harm the baby through every stage of my pregnancy. OK well I've been doing this for almost 24 years so easy peasy... except SO NOT. I could LIVE in the fridge right now, and I'm barely using any basal insulin. It's scary to realize, for the first time in a bazillion years, that I have NO idea what I'm doing.

So Thursday morning I went to see my GP in order to ease my fears, confirm the pregnancy, and be referred to a high-risk obstetrical clinic. When she came in the exam room my excitement and fear combined in a verbal jumble of 'ItooktwopregnancytestsandtheywerebothpositiveandI'msoHAPPYandEXCITEDbutOMGI'mTERRIFIED!!!!!!!!!'

She didn't laugh as she usually does at my behavior... nor did she congratulate me.

"Oh... well..." [insert some blah blah here that I can't remember because then she said:

"You need to be prepared to have a miscarriage."

"EXCUSE ME???" I practically yelled it at her. and then, in the middle of the exam room I started crying. Normally I would argue her opinions with her - we've debated in the past about religion and marriage. And yes, having children otside of wedlock. Prior intellectual and interesting conversations that should've been my first indication that she would not like my news. 

"Well if it's meant to be God will see it happen."

And that's when I blew up at her. This Doctor who had spent the last 17 years listening to me talk about how badly I wanted children; who told me to expect to have difficulties conceiving; who had gained my implicit trust and respect, not only betrayed me but also stepped over the line by shoving her unqualified opinion and religious beliefs in my face.

I may report her. Right now I'm trying to get past her words. Trying not to let the worry consume me. I always thought that this would be a time of happiness and anticipation... not these epic fears that now sneak up in me. 

I will NOT let her influence my feelings towards the sea monkey percolating inside of me. Que sera sera... And everything will be fine. I'm now on a whopping 5 mg Folic Acid (normal procedure for Type 1 Diabetics) along with extra D and Calcium supplements. 

Holy Vitamins, Batman!

And best of all, my initial lab tests showed that my HCG levels are exactly what they should be. I've already got an appointment at the high-risk obstetrical clinic tomorrow morning, and a 6 week ultrasound scheduled for Thursday afternoon. 

And Mr. Right and I will continue to talk about nursery colours (OK, I'll talk and he'll nod and smile!) and how beautiful this little sea monkey will be. We're having a baby. It chokes me!!!

Isn't life wonderful?

Little Pink Lines

HOLY SHIT.

Holy. Shit.

I freaked. I jumped around like a pantless looney in the bathroom. Then I thought I was hyperventilating. Then I couldn't stop smiling. Then, I cried.

And then I started doubting it. After all, doctors have spent YEARS warning me that I'll probably have fertility issues. There's NO way Mr. Right's Well Trained Soldiers (as he calls them... he's former military so I figure he's entitled lol) could be THAT impressive. I had to try another test... and I was adamant that I wouldn't use the remaining test from my 2-test box. So I went out and got a different type, that didn't have light lines and dark lines and blah blah blah.

If we ever do this again, this is the one I'm using. Digital, all the way!

Holy mother of GAWD.

My Doctors appointment is tomorrow at 9:45 am. We've told only my longest-time girlfriend. I'm over the freaking moon!!! I'm ecstatic!!! I'm absofreakinglutely TERRIFIED and trying desperately not to worry about what could go wrong. Maybe both the tests were wrong (I have one left and I might use it!), maybe all those scary things that I don't want to even acknowledge here will happen. I have to be SO careful now, because of my Type 1 Diabetes, that suddenly I feel like my 23 years of education and experience with Diabetes mean NOTHING! I'm afraid that I might lay on that table tomorrow and hear her say "they were false".

Because I've gotten excited. I'm already emotionally attached to the little sea monkey that's growing inside of me right now. (Holy fuck! There is a BABY in there!!! I'm going to be a MOMMY!!!) I want him with every fibre of my being and I'm terrified that he'll be taken away. That he'll turn out to be simply an idea that I had, a hope and nothing more.

No, he's in there. Tomorrow will confirm that, and everything will be just fine.

How am I gonna fit these in the baby book??

I've got the proof. And yeah, I'm keeping it!

Countdown Month One

4 days to go.

Is it awful of me to count down the days? Is it terrible that I'm a little tempted to buy a home pregnancy test and just see what happens? How is it that I can be 99.9% certain that I'm not preggers, and yet that 0.01% almost seems to haunt a corner of my mind?

99.9%: it's PMS. Or maybe the flu. Stress is a possibility too. Who knows, it might be a whole "mind over matter" issue in which my brain is so obsessed that I'm getting pseudo-symptoms.

0.01%: my boobies are sore. I'm nauseous. Dizzy. I had strange cramping in my pelvis the week before last. My taste buds are really weird. I'm peeing a lot. On top of some strange constipation-slash-diarrhea. Epic EXHAUSTION!! 

I promise myself I'd not dwell on thoughts and hopes... and to my credit I've done a good job. But every day that passes makes it harder to just go with the flow and wait and see. A co-worker asked me about my greenish face this morning, which led to the dreaded question: "Could you be pregnant?" I scoffed, told her that its highly unlikely and no way would I be feeling symptoms this early. "I did," she stated. With both her children, she had morning sickness almost from the very moment of conception. 

You can imagine how the synapses in my brain started randomly misfiring upon her telling me this. 

I could be. Anything is possible...

But I won't know for sure for at least another 4 days. How am I supposed to do this every month for months???

Anything is possible, but my gut is telling me that there is no baby silently growing in my belly right now. 

Prove me wrong, body.

Dragons Say It Best

I haven't paid any attention to Father's Day for... well, ever. 

This year was my first experience honouring a Dad since I was young enough to press my paint covered hand to a folded sheet of paper and present it as a card. I have no Father, only Mother's Day.

This Father's Day was different. There is a father in my life now who has shown me what real fatherhood means: leading by example and being a child's moral compass. Spending quality time putting a car set together on the floor or teaching a five year old the proper batting stance. Hugging his son often and without reserve. And then laughing over some silly boyish fart joke afterwards.

L~ and I went shopping on Saturday for the perfect Father's Day gift. It was a lovely blue button-down shirt that L~ picked out himself at the Big and Tall store, along with a card that was just perfect because of the Daddy Dinosaur on the front. It was a wonder to watch his little five-year old self peering seriously at each shirt while deciding which one Daddy would like best, or which card satisfied his own childish impulses. 

Father's Day found Mr. Right working during the day, but L~ and I did our best to make his homecoming as wonderful as possible. Wrapped gift on the table... a card both L~ and I signed, covered in childish artwork with a little personal note from me. Steak and mashed potatoes for dinner. Lots of hugs and kisses and fun games. It was a wonderful day.

A day that I made special for the man that I love... and his child with another woman. There's a bitter sweetness to that for me, not so bitter that it ruined my first real experience with the occasion... but enough that I felt the little twinges from it throughout the weekend. Impatience and anticipation for the day that I make a special occasion for the man who has fathered children with me. My babies' Daddy. This past Sunday was special, and full of love.

But some day, I know, Father's Day will be MAGICAL. 

{so I've been feeling awful this past week. Exhausted. Constipated. Exhausted. Nauseous. So. Freaking. Tired. Sorebacksorebacksoreboobies and even a leetle bit of strange pelvic cramping. I'm probably fighting the flu or it might just be stress... But I'll know either way in about 6 days. I keep telling myself it's nothing, don't think about it. I'm doing pretty good... For now.}

(I suck at) Letting Nature Take It's Course

Mr. Right and I are not trying to get pregnant.

But... we're not preventing it, either.

A few weeks ago, without any real discussion, we stopped using condoms. Heat of the moment and all, with only one short acknowledgement during which he asked me if I wanted him to suit up.

I said no. Not only because we're both silently letting nature decide, but also because it just feels Sooooo much better.

I'm doing my best not to wonder. I've been terribly exhausted this week. The timing is good. Mah boobies are sore. Headaches, intestinal stuff... all of which can be blamed on ovulation and/or the incredible amount of stress that I'm under at work right now combined with the constant go-go-go of life.

I won't know either way for another two weeks or so, and I'm forcing myself not to acknowledge the possibilities. It apparently takes most couples up to a year to get pregnant; not one month. Maybe I'll get lucky, or maybe I'll be that damn statistic that doctors have warned me about. Either way, I'm trying not to worry. Or wonder. Or hope. Since I'm not anywhere near to Miss GoWithTheFlow, that's challenging.

But fun. And wonderful. And happy. So I'm focusing on how good everything is (because we've come so far and everything is So much better now!) and just enjoying myself. Without pressure. Without my normal, ten page, detailed plan on how to Get Things Done. Yes, they always have timelines. And alternative options if said plan doesn't go the way I want. Resulting in worry and panic and definitive action plans. If life came with a guide book, I'd be standing on street corners giving them away.

Here's to life without a guideline.
[And maybe, just maybe, a spring baby...]