Uh-Oh

Any use of the crock-pot in my house is hereby banned. I will be revisiting this issue in the second trimester. Possibly.

Yikes. Cooking beef all day yesterday was entirely too fragrant.

A Sigh of Relief

So...

Levels are all looking good. I went in early this week for the 8 week appointment. It was so strange not to have been in the office already every two days. I'd been anticipating this appointment since that BFP and blood work and was shaky-nervous going into that sonogram room.

I had a (mostly internal, thank goodness) freak-out when my doc couldn't find the baby with the internal sonogram. He couldn't get a decent look at my uterus in general. Apparently, because it is freakishly high this time, it wouldn't work. We switched to the abdominal sonogram and (whew!) finally made out an adorable little blob with a beating heart. I'm sure other things were said after Dr. Awesome played the heartbeat for me, but I heard nothing else. I'm sure my sigh was audible several counties over. That's what I needed. A heartbeat.

I go back in two weeks for another scan to get a size measurement. The picture wasn't clear enough to do the estimate, although Dr. Awesome thinks that the baby is measuring about a week and a half behind. I'm not terribly concerned about that part, though, since The Bean was the exact same way, and it was never an issue with her.

So apparently, even when Clomid-coaxed, my ovaries take their sweet time with the ovulation thing. My doctor thinks that when I had my blood drawn before to test for it, I hadn't actually ovulated yet. That actually doesn't work out in my head, but for now, I'm taking the good happy news and running. I'll wrap my head around the details later.

For now, my days are generally filled with food aversions and nausea. But I can't really complain. Regular pregnancy symptoms indicate, well...pregnancy, and I'm not about to take the joy out of that. Nope, not a bit. I will, however, go have a ginger ale.

Surprise?

Um....yeah.

I've not felt very well for about a week or so and haven't thought a whole lot about it. I've been working really hard at balancing housework with all the crafty projects that I need to work on. Sleep has been somewhat of an afterthought lately, although I've been doing better at getting into bed before 2am. Except tonight. No, tonight I can't seem to make my brain slow down long enough for sleep.

Mr. Mandolyn jokingly asked if I was pregnant after I mentioned feeling yucky this afternoon. We both giggled. No ovulation means no baby. Duh. Still, once that notion gets in your head, only a trip to the grocery store can get rid of it. The two week wait was over two weeks ago. I've been there, done that when it comes to crushing myself with negative pee sticks, and wasn't eager to revisit. So, at 99.9% sure that I was going to see a negative result (and just ready to clear that idea from my head and move on) I was all jittery in the bathroom. Still, pee on a stick I did.

And I'll be damned if a BFP didn't just announce itself within one full second. Tears sprung to my eyes. Then a brief second of elation. Then the oh-too-familiar freak out settled deep in my stomach. What an idiot I am for not checking. I should have thought about the last time, how nothing seemed to make sense, and yet, it did. I should have, I should have... maybe not had those several beers the past few weeks after the "no evidence of ovulation" call, maybe held off on some of the caffeine, maybe not have taken the migraine medicine last night. Hell, I stopped taking the prenatals after that. They make me nauseous and thought that I'd just pick it up with the next cycle.

So much to think (worry?) about before I can exhale. Hormone levels? Progesterone suppositories? Is everything okay? Seriously, how late DO I force-ovulate, anyway?

Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled. I just can't wait to get into see my Dr. tomorrow for reassurance. It's not like we haven't been down a similar road before, but that whole "no evidence of ovulation" really had me buying it. And I thought I couldn't be surprised...

3rd Inning, Strike One.

"No evidence of ovulation."

I admit that I'm not surprised at all. Really didn't expect for it to work the first time around, because really, would I know how to handle things if they worked exactly like they should? Not so much. It wasn't the sucker-punch that I felt two years ago, but it wasn't exactly two scoops of chocolate Blue Bell either. Next up: Clomid, 150mg. We'll see if it can succeed in coaxing an egg out next round.

Awaiting Day One.

The recipe for hope:

prescriptions for Provera, Clomid

samples of a new blood pressure medicine

a calendar & sharpie

28 oz. Slurpee

Here we go...

Hey, look. I remembered my log-in!

Wow, has it been a year? Hmm.

Funny. Provera didn't exactly prevail. Granted, Rosalie* hasn't kicked her heels up on my coffee table for months at a time, but she has popped in sporadically. Like, REAL sporadically. I've been experimenting lately to see what my body does on it's own. That was amusing. And here we are, almost exactly a year later, and there is a Provera prescription waiting for me in the pharmacy.

I wonder if I should buy a hat.

On another note, I've really got to stop having SuperIssues on my anniversary. (5 years tomorrow!)

*O-kay. Didn't realize that that little book I was reading was going to be so insanely popular. Hmm. My period is famous.

Hello, Provera. We meet again.

I've decided to rename my Aunt Flo. She will be known as "Rosalie" from here on out. Rosalie was a character in a book that I just finished, and I think that a disgruntled vampire seems to fit Flo's description better.

So it is.

I was pretty used to the fact that Rosalie doesn't ever visit me, and was pretty damn okay with that for the year and a half that it lasted. Quite honestly, I was more than peachy to never give her a second thought. It was nice.

And then she decided to unexpectedly show up at the end of February. At first I thought maybe she was just going to ring the doorbell and run off. She dabbled with the idea of staying for a while before inviting herself in and unloading her bags. Rosalie, in her typical style, couldn't make up her mind. She disappeared for six days. But just as I was sighing in relief, she was boldly making plans to move in permanently. The last week she's been a thorn in my side. Ugh. I called my doctor again and he seems to think that an eviction notice might do the trick. I'm going to pick up the Provera Proclaimation this afternoon. Hopefully Rosalie will realize that a month is really too long of a visit. I need a break, vampire chick.

So Hello, Provera. Looks like you're the new sheriff in town.