Now that I'm almost half done, it's about time for the big day. Ok, not *the* big day, but the next closest thing--the 20 week ultrasound. This is the one where they will tell you, presumably only if you want to know, if you're having a boy or a girl. Over the last month or two, we have been asked lots of questions about this. Are we going to peek? Will we share what we find out? Along similar lines are questions such as, have we picked names? and will we share them? These are standard questions and I have no problem with people asking. What is amusing is the responses to the answers.
Are you going to look? A "yes" answer meets with lots of head nods and statements about excitement, but is also occasionally met with a barely concealed disappointment. Really? You're going to take the shortcut and look?! However, "no" answers breed, "are you crazy" or "suuuuuuurrrrrre" looks.
Are you telling? A "yes" answer generally provides happy faces, whiles a "no" gets you some heated and hated looks. You know and you're not sharing? How could you. It turns out that if you look, people feel entitled to know and can feel personally sinned against if you don't tell.
Have you picked names? Generally, a "yes" or "no" answer to this question only determines the follow-up questions. Yeses lead to questions about sharing. Noes lead to offers of help and suggestions.
Will you share them? This is a tricky question. Really. If you tell people what you've chosen, you can get vague stares or "how could you choose that" looks. People also feel it is their right to try and change your mind if they don't like what you've selected. There are also considerations for sharing with people on social networking sites (I have discovered that sharing one's children's names is generally frowned upon.) A "no," on the other hand, leads to even more trouble. People feel entitled to this information--after all, you have to tell them once the baby is born. Why not now? Some of them almost visibly bristle with indignation. Others will try and guess and hope your facial expressions give it away. Guessing? Really? Like there aren't more names on heaven* and earth to go through making it very unlikely that someone would ever pick correctly?
Ultimately, what I have realized about all of these questions is that they are my first opportunity for parental decision making. Selecting a name, more than any other thing I do with as a parent, is guaranteed to last the child's lifetime. In some cases, longer, like if they get passed down. Answers and actions taken in relation to the other questions are not only the first opportunity to set limits, but also my first chance to hold my ground in the face of opposition. No one is ever going to agree with all of my parenting decisions (although I like to hope that Phil and I will agree on most of them). Learning how to stand firm in my decision in the face of dissent, whether direct or passive, will help me when I have to explain to parents, teachers, friends, etc. some parenting choice I have made with which they disagree.
So, in the interest of disclosure, here are my answers to these questions:
Are we going to look? Yes. I don't think it ruins the surprise. It was still a surprise; I just opened my present sooner.
Are we going to tell? Yes. I have always hated when people tell me they know a secret but won't tell me. Either tell me the secret, or don't tell me you know one.
Have we picked names? Yes. Long before we got pregnant, actually. We picked early in the process, not realizing how long this journey would be.
Will we share them? Yes, but not here.
*I am restraining from sharing my personal opinion about the latest trend to name girls "Neveah"--heaven backwards.
6.26.2010
6.20.2010
Fathers Day 0.5 (beta)
It is Fathers Day.
This is the first year when Fathers Day applies to me, even though the title remains imminent for a few more months.
I am reminded of all the men, starting with dad, who have had a nurturing, challenging, important role in my life.
Some have said that parenthood is the most important job for which there is no owner's manual. While this whole parenting thing is more than just a little frightening, I have a lot of examples. Of course, everyone can serve as an example: some of how to, and some of how not to. I am especially thankful that I have so many good examples.
So to all the fathers out there, especially those by whose presence, example and persistence your children have been blessed, I thank you. To my own Dad, thanks, and sorry for all the messes.
Here's to you (and soon to us).
This is the first year when Fathers Day applies to me, even though the title remains imminent for a few more months.
I am reminded of all the men, starting with dad, who have had a nurturing, challenging, important role in my life.
Some have said that parenthood is the most important job for which there is no owner's manual. While this whole parenting thing is more than just a little frightening, I have a lot of examples. Of course, everyone can serve as an example: some of how to, and some of how not to. I am especially thankful that I have so many good examples.
So to all the fathers out there, especially those by whose presence, example and persistence your children have been blessed, I thank you. To my own Dad, thanks, and sorry for all the messes.
Here's to you (and soon to us).
5.17.2010
A Million Dollar Idea
So, having experienced the reactions of people to the Mrs.' pregnancy, I have an idea for t-shirts that would probably sell:
If you are helping to pay for college
you get to touch the belly without asking.
5.15.2010
Anniversary
Today is my anniversary. Phil and I like to joke that we are saving two other people a lifetime of misery. But the truth is, Phil is a very good match for me. We got engaged because Phil fed me. Really.
It started when we were dating; he wooed me with homemade cheesecake. After I graduated from college and moved to within 4 hours of Chicago (instead of 15!), I would spend many weekends driving up to visit him. One weekend I was scheduled to visit, I got home from work on Friday and I was tired. I didn't want to drive 4 hours, so I called Phil and told him I wasn't coming to visit. He was upset, but understood. I spent the next few hours trying to discuss with my 3 housemates (my brother, sister, and brother-in-law) what was for dinner. I would get no response. Knowing that if I went to Chicago, Phil would feed me, I called him up, told him I had changed my mind, and drove the four hours to see him. Yes, that's right, I drove four hours to be fed rather than cook for myself or go to a drive-thru. And I was right. When I got there, Phil fed me. I knew he was a keeper.
So, at some point that weekend, I proposed to Phil (I didn't think he was getting around to it soon enough). He swears to this day he was going to propose the following weekend, but we'll never know. Anyway, he said yes, but made a counter-proposal, on the off-chance that I was merely asking for information rather than actually asking to get married (Oh, you'll marry me? Good to know. Let me file this away for later). I agreed, we planned and had a wedding and *tada* here we are eleven years later.
What brings this up (outside of the fact that it's my anniversary and we're going to a wedding this evening)? I watched a cute romantic comedy yesterday called "Leap Year." Yes, it's predictable, but I loved it for several reasons. First, the heroine is a planner and likes to be precise. It should shock no one to learn that I'm a bit of a planner. Okay, okay. An extreme planner. When the heroine starts walking places because she has no other form of transportation, I could totally relate. When I want to get something done, Lord help whatever gets in my way. But the best part was the end. *SPOILER WARNING*
Ultimately, our heroine goes back to Ireland to propose to the right guy (again, I could relate!). Her proposal is wonderful. Having been such a planner, she doesn't ask him to get married. She asks him if he would like to not make plans with her (I love this because there are many times when I have had to struggle to not make plans). Ultimately, he rejects her proposal and makes a counter proposal. He says, "I don't want not to make plans with you. I want to make plans with you." I'm sure I melted.
At this point, my dear husband pauses the movie, looks over, and says, "That was probably the most romantic proposal you have ever heard. I'm sorry I didn't come up with that line myself." Turns out I was right. He's definitely a keeper.
It started when we were dating; he wooed me with homemade cheesecake. After I graduated from college and moved to within 4 hours of Chicago (instead of 15!), I would spend many weekends driving up to visit him. One weekend I was scheduled to visit, I got home from work on Friday and I was tired. I didn't want to drive 4 hours, so I called Phil and told him I wasn't coming to visit. He was upset, but understood. I spent the next few hours trying to discuss with my 3 housemates (my brother, sister, and brother-in-law) what was for dinner. I would get no response. Knowing that if I went to Chicago, Phil would feed me, I called him up, told him I had changed my mind, and drove the four hours to see him. Yes, that's right, I drove four hours to be fed rather than cook for myself or go to a drive-thru. And I was right. When I got there, Phil fed me. I knew he was a keeper.
So, at some point that weekend, I proposed to Phil (I didn't think he was getting around to it soon enough). He swears to this day he was going to propose the following weekend, but we'll never know. Anyway, he said yes, but made a counter-proposal, on the off-chance that I was merely asking for information rather than actually asking to get married (Oh, you'll marry me? Good to know. Let me file this away for later). I agreed, we planned and had a wedding and *tada* here we are eleven years later.
What brings this up (outside of the fact that it's my anniversary and we're going to a wedding this evening)? I watched a cute romantic comedy yesterday called "Leap Year." Yes, it's predictable, but I loved it for several reasons. First, the heroine is a planner and likes to be precise. It should shock no one to learn that I'm a bit of a planner. Okay, okay. An extreme planner. When the heroine starts walking places because she has no other form of transportation, I could totally relate. When I want to get something done, Lord help whatever gets in my way. But the best part was the end. *SPOILER WARNING*
Ultimately, our heroine goes back to Ireland to propose to the right guy (again, I could relate!). Her proposal is wonderful. Having been such a planner, she doesn't ask him to get married. She asks him if he would like to not make plans with her (I love this because there are many times when I have had to struggle to not make plans). Ultimately, he rejects her proposal and makes a counter proposal. He says, "I don't want not to make plans with you. I want to make plans with you." I'm sure I melted.
At this point, my dear husband pauses the movie, looks over, and says, "That was probably the most romantic proposal you have ever heard. I'm sorry I didn't come up with that line myself." Turns out I was right. He's definitely a keeper.
5.13.2010
Mother's Day
Mother's Day has tended to be an odd holiday for me. When I was younger, it was a day to celebrate my mom and grandmas and godmother. It wasn't a big day, but it didn't go by unrecognized either. Then college graduation fell on Mother's Day. My parents dutifully traveled out of state to share my graduation with me, and mom never complained that my celebration had taken her day. When I finished graduate school, commencement once again fell on Mother's Day. This time, my family and my in-laws all traveled out of state, but none of the four moms who came to celebrate made me feel as though it was anything other than my day.
Over the years, I had seen how emotional people got during church on Mother's Day and, although I could rationalize why it happened, I didn't really get it. I couldn't understand why certain hymns would make grown women bawl during service. It was just another holiday to get a card and a present and celebrate some annual event.
Then came last year. I had been on one or two rounds of fertility medications by that point, and all tests had indicated that this should be all we needed. I was feeling quite hopeful. Whether it was a byproduct of the medication, or the disappointment, or some combination of both, when I woke up Sunday morning to discover that we had failed again, I became an emotional wreck. Having learned a while back that when I was in such a place, going to church to be surrounded by those who loved me was a better option than sitting home alone, I pulled up my big girl shorts and went to church. I think I cried throughout the entire service. It didn't help that I felt like I was on display because I was sitting with the choir up in front of everyone. The hymns made me cry. The prayers made me cry. Everything about that service was an affirmation of my failure to become a mother once again. It felt like the worst form of emotional torture.
After service was over, there was a time for special prayers in the sanctuary. A dear friend (and dynamic pray-er) laid hands on me and prayed over me. Although she never remembered the words, they washed over me and worked to heal my heart and soul. Among other things, she asked God to "let this be the last Mother's Day that Mary is not a mother." I clung to this prayer a lot in the past year. Month after month as things didn't work out, I kept telling myself that I still had time--it wasn't Mother's Day yet. I remember calculating out that if I had gotten pregnant in August, I would have been due Mother's Day. I became certain that August would be my month. When it wasn't, it took me a while to realize that it didn't mean the prayer hadn't worked. So long as I was pregnant by Mother's Day, the prayer had been answered. I was still leery, though. I remember telling Phil that I wasn't sure I could go to service on Mother's Day if IVF didn't work. But Phil is an amazing man.
In between all the surgeries and information sessions and everything else we did, Phil and I talked about how to make Mother's Day service welcoming for all women. It is a day to celebrate our mothers and grandmothers; those mother's who birth children that others raise; the women who raise others' children, whether as adoptive moms, step-moms, guardians or foster moms; those women who conceived children that were born in heaven; sisters who mother their siblings; aunts who mother their nieces and nephews; and the women who mentor, teach, console and comfort children. It is also appropriate to recognize the infertile women who suffer, as did several prominent women in the Bible. And so Phil put together an amazing responsive prayer for Mother's Day that set out to remember and honor all of these types of mothers. Even though I knew it was coming, it still made my cry. It was amazing. I felt in that moment that, even if I hadn't been pregnant, I would have felt like the day honored me.
But this Mother's Day was even more special, because I got to give thanks for answered prayers. As it turned out, last year was the last Mother's Day that I was not a mother. I am blessed, grateful, humbled, and terrified. So as I take my place among the ranks of mothers, I want to thank all of the women who have mothered me. I wouldn't be here without you. Thank you for not only sharing your day, but your lives with me. And to my mom--thanks for sharing my first Mother's Day with me.
Over the years, I had seen how emotional people got during church on Mother's Day and, although I could rationalize why it happened, I didn't really get it. I couldn't understand why certain hymns would make grown women bawl during service. It was just another holiday to get a card and a present and celebrate some annual event.
Then came last year. I had been on one or two rounds of fertility medications by that point, and all tests had indicated that this should be all we needed. I was feeling quite hopeful. Whether it was a byproduct of the medication, or the disappointment, or some combination of both, when I woke up Sunday morning to discover that we had failed again, I became an emotional wreck. Having learned a while back that when I was in such a place, going to church to be surrounded by those who loved me was a better option than sitting home alone, I pulled up my big girl shorts and went to church. I think I cried throughout the entire service. It didn't help that I felt like I was on display because I was sitting with the choir up in front of everyone. The hymns made me cry. The prayers made me cry. Everything about that service was an affirmation of my failure to become a mother once again. It felt like the worst form of emotional torture.
After service was over, there was a time for special prayers in the sanctuary. A dear friend (and dynamic pray-er) laid hands on me and prayed over me. Although she never remembered the words, they washed over me and worked to heal my heart and soul. Among other things, she asked God to "let this be the last Mother's Day that Mary is not a mother." I clung to this prayer a lot in the past year. Month after month as things didn't work out, I kept telling myself that I still had time--it wasn't Mother's Day yet. I remember calculating out that if I had gotten pregnant in August, I would have been due Mother's Day. I became certain that August would be my month. When it wasn't, it took me a while to realize that it didn't mean the prayer hadn't worked. So long as I was pregnant by Mother's Day, the prayer had been answered. I was still leery, though. I remember telling Phil that I wasn't sure I could go to service on Mother's Day if IVF didn't work. But Phil is an amazing man.
In between all the surgeries and information sessions and everything else we did, Phil and I talked about how to make Mother's Day service welcoming for all women. It is a day to celebrate our mothers and grandmothers; those mother's who birth children that others raise; the women who raise others' children, whether as adoptive moms, step-moms, guardians or foster moms; those women who conceived children that were born in heaven; sisters who mother their siblings; aunts who mother their nieces and nephews; and the women who mentor, teach, console and comfort children. It is also appropriate to recognize the infertile women who suffer, as did several prominent women in the Bible. And so Phil put together an amazing responsive prayer for Mother's Day that set out to remember and honor all of these types of mothers. Even though I knew it was coming, it still made my cry. It was amazing. I felt in that moment that, even if I hadn't been pregnant, I would have felt like the day honored me.
But this Mother's Day was even more special, because I got to give thanks for answered prayers. As it turned out, last year was the last Mother's Day that I was not a mother. I am blessed, grateful, humbled, and terrified. So as I take my place among the ranks of mothers, I want to thank all of the women who have mothered me. I wouldn't be here without you. Thank you for not only sharing your day, but your lives with me. And to my mom--thanks for sharing my first Mother's Day with me.
4.24.2010
Pregnancy 101
I haven't blogged recently because I wasn't sure I had anything to say and I was fairly certain that you, my readers, weren't looking for a daily laundry list of symptoms, complications, etc. I will, however, share what I have learned these past few weeks in broad, generalized chunks.
Food: When it comes to food and hunger during pregnancy, anything is normal. Want to eat everything in sight? Normal. Don't feel like eating anything? Normal. Can't eat anything when you try? Normal. A combination of these that changes from minute to minute? Normal. This is both reassuring and frustrating. Although, as a good friend wrote on my Facebook page when I asked if something was "normal," did I really think being pregnant would make me normal?! He had a point. I haven't ever really been normal. Why start now? In that vein, we have renamed saltines in my house. They are known as "cake" because they always taste wonderful, as does cake. When I told the nurses at my initial OB appointment, they not only laughed, but when they were advising me on things to eat, they told me to try and eat peanut butter with my cake. They got bonus points for that!
Worry: I had read that women who undergo IVF tend to worry most of their pregnancies about everything and don't have a chance to enjoy them. Therefore, I have worked very hard not to freak out about things. I am not considered high-risk and everything has gone smoothly thus far. I have no reason to expect that this will change. However, I did make one decision that is, arguably, out of worry. I decided not to undergo any genetic testing. There in nothing in our backgrounds to suggest a real need for it and, although small, all of the testing has an increased risk of miscarriage. We decided that, since the information we got wouldn't change what we were going to do, there was no reason to risk miscarrying a kid we paid to get to find out that information. Other friends have shared that finding out that kind of information can lead to needless worry if a marker does show up. So, not getting the testing seems like the best plan all the way around.
Swag: This is a term I first learned at GenCon. It means "free stuff." Pregnant women are swag generators. Promotional magazines, tote-bags, planners, samples, coupons. There's tons of stuff you can buy and the retailers are all about tempting you into buying it. That brings me to the related area of baby registries.
Registries: Phil and I started a registry and I discovered that there are all kinds of unnecessary things that people will convince you are vital. Some things, like a highchair, will be necessary in the future, but won't do me much good in the beginning. Other things, like clothing, I need to wait to register for because I don't have any idea how big my child will be. Better to wait until the third trimester to register for these. Finally, there are the things the checklist tells me are essential, but I have no plan to buy, ever. Included in this category are plastic covers for my tub faucet and a special thermometer to determine how hot the bathwater is. Having a baby will increase the amount of stuff in our house exponentially. There is no reason to include unnecessary things.
Advice: Everybody has some, but it's not always welcome. It generally falls into one of the following categories, although they are not necessarily mutually exclusive: Useful in the future, but unhelpful at the moment; Horror stories (often given as, don't worry, it can't possibly be as bad as my friend who experienced x); What to buy/what baby will need; You're doing it wrong already; and lastly, Ignore everyone else and just listen to me. Don't get me wrong, there is good advice. It's just more precious for its rarity.
The biggest thing I learned/am learning, is that pregnancy isn't easy. I didn't expect it to be a cakewalk or anything, but I thought making it through IVF would be the most difficult part in all of this. I was wrong. Whether its mood swings, sleep deprivation, or any one of the myriad pregnancy symptoms, every day seems to bring new challenges. This, of course, is a good lesson to learn early on. After all, once the baby comes, the learning curve will be extremely high and every day will bring something new. Might as well get used to it now.
Food: When it comes to food and hunger during pregnancy, anything is normal. Want to eat everything in sight? Normal. Don't feel like eating anything? Normal. Can't eat anything when you try? Normal. A combination of these that changes from minute to minute? Normal. This is both reassuring and frustrating. Although, as a good friend wrote on my Facebook page when I asked if something was "normal," did I really think being pregnant would make me normal?! He had a point. I haven't ever really been normal. Why start now? In that vein, we have renamed saltines in my house. They are known as "cake" because they always taste wonderful, as does cake. When I told the nurses at my initial OB appointment, they not only laughed, but when they were advising me on things to eat, they told me to try and eat peanut butter with my cake. They got bonus points for that!
Worry: I had read that women who undergo IVF tend to worry most of their pregnancies about everything and don't have a chance to enjoy them. Therefore, I have worked very hard not to freak out about things. I am not considered high-risk and everything has gone smoothly thus far. I have no reason to expect that this will change. However, I did make one decision that is, arguably, out of worry. I decided not to undergo any genetic testing. There in nothing in our backgrounds to suggest a real need for it and, although small, all of the testing has an increased risk of miscarriage. We decided that, since the information we got wouldn't change what we were going to do, there was no reason to risk miscarrying a kid we paid to get to find out that information. Other friends have shared that finding out that kind of information can lead to needless worry if a marker does show up. So, not getting the testing seems like the best plan all the way around.
Swag: This is a term I first learned at GenCon. It means "free stuff." Pregnant women are swag generators. Promotional magazines, tote-bags, planners, samples, coupons. There's tons of stuff you can buy and the retailers are all about tempting you into buying it. That brings me to the related area of baby registries.
Registries: Phil and I started a registry and I discovered that there are all kinds of unnecessary things that people will convince you are vital. Some things, like a highchair, will be necessary in the future, but won't do me much good in the beginning. Other things, like clothing, I need to wait to register for because I don't have any idea how big my child will be. Better to wait until the third trimester to register for these. Finally, there are the things the checklist tells me are essential, but I have no plan to buy, ever. Included in this category are plastic covers for my tub faucet and a special thermometer to determine how hot the bathwater is. Having a baby will increase the amount of stuff in our house exponentially. There is no reason to include unnecessary things.
Advice: Everybody has some, but it's not always welcome. It generally falls into one of the following categories, although they are not necessarily mutually exclusive: Useful in the future, but unhelpful at the moment; Horror stories (often given as, don't worry, it can't possibly be as bad as my friend who experienced x); What to buy/what baby will need; You're doing it wrong already; and lastly, Ignore everyone else and just listen to me. Don't get me wrong, there is good advice. It's just more precious for its rarity.
The biggest thing I learned/am learning, is that pregnancy isn't easy. I didn't expect it to be a cakewalk or anything, but I thought making it through IVF would be the most difficult part in all of this. I was wrong. Whether its mood swings, sleep deprivation, or any one of the myriad pregnancy symptoms, every day seems to bring new challenges. This, of course, is a good lesson to learn early on. After all, once the baby comes, the learning curve will be extremely high and every day will bring something new. Might as well get used to it now.
4.12.2010
Graduation Day
Today, Phil and I went to the fertility center for another ultrasound. The news was all good. I am 7 weeks and 6 days along and the baby measures 16.1mm and has a heart rate of 160 bpm. Our doctor informed us it was graduation day. We had progressed to the point where we were being released to my regular OBGYN. I still have meds to take for the next two weeks, but I no longer have to have any shots. Hallelujah! *does a happy dance*
In other news, I have not had any morning sickness. I have some queasiness if I eat dairy in the morning, but it's fine to eat later in the day so I just adjusted my diet a little bit. My main symptom is being tired. I tend to come home from work most nights and crash, and I sleep away the weekends. I haven't gotten many chores done, but I keep reminding myself that I am actually doing a lot of work--I'm making another person! When I keep that in mind, I feel more productive. Next stop, an appointment with my regular doctor in the next 2-3 weeks.
In other news, I have not had any morning sickness. I have some queasiness if I eat dairy in the morning, but it's fine to eat later in the day so I just adjusted my diet a little bit. My main symptom is being tired. I tend to come home from work most nights and crash, and I sleep away the weekends. I haven't gotten many chores done, but I keep reminding myself that I am actually doing a lot of work--I'm making another person! When I keep that in mind, I feel more productive. Next stop, an appointment with my regular doctor in the next 2-3 weeks.
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