I have now been pregnant for one-fourth of the time that it takes to gestate a full-term baby. I'm having a hard time getting my head around that. Every day I still wait for the other shoe to drop, but so far, it seems planted firmly in the air.
I do FEEL pregnant now. I'm tired. So tired. It's amazing how tired I am. Not a bad kind of tired, just a very, well, tired kind of tired. I'm sleeping about 9 hours/night, and still having barely the energy it takes to lie on the sofa after I get home from work. I am still managing to go through the motions adequately at work, so nobody seems to suspect anything yet, but I suspect that I'm going to have to fess up soon, lest my boss begin to suspect that I've been replaced with a lethargic pod person.
I'm also a wierd combination of hungry and nauseous. The only thing that keeps the nausea at bay is eating every hour or so, so I'm constantly snacking. My belly is already growing, but I'm positive that's because of the vast quantities of food that I'm consuming, not because of fetal growth.
Being pregnant has put me into a wierd place, mentally. I'm thrilled to be here, but still can't really begin to take active steps that relate to expecting a child. I did get a few maternity things while I was in the US, but otherwise have made no concrete preparations. So, while it physically feels real, it's still hard to realize that the end product may (if I'm very very lucky) end up being an actual baby.
Really, I guess that when I look what I just wrote, it seems that I'm actually in a pretty good place. Heck, anyplace pregnant is a good place, isn't it?
*************************
A housekeeping note--I just realized that most of the blogs on my blogroll now link to pregnant infertiles or new mothers. This tells me two things:
#1) I might have to rething my policy of not creating categories. While I don't like the idea of having to decide when someone "graduates" from being infertile, it does seem to me that referring infertile readers to a list where they have a 90% chance of hitting someone pregnant without fair warning is a bit unkind.
#2) I've been a bit slack about seeking out people who are still in the trenches and need support. I'm going to try to do better about that.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
Can't I just take the SAT again?
Recently, the always-thoughtful M-B asked me if I planned to have CVS. It seems like a simple question, but somehow the question has unleashed a torrent of conflicting thoughts and emotions.
The short (and easy) answer to the question of whether I'll have CVS is that I don't know yet if it's even an option. Being in a new country means that I am not certain of the standard offerings available for a woman of "advanced maternal age" (oh how that phrase makes me long for the days when being "advanced" was a good thing!) If CVS is rarely offered here, then I don't think I'll sign up to be one of the rare training cases offered at the local medical school. However, if it's standard operating procedure, and the doctors doing the procedure have a lot or experience and low rates of complication, then I'll seriously consider it.
Practical issues aside, however, I am really struggling with the deeper dilemmas involved in the decision to proceed with a "needle test". This comes as an enormous surprise to me. I had always thought that of course I'd sign up for any available test. I'm addicted to knowledge. I love to know what's going on. I remember being 30 and being annoyed at the thought that amnio was only standard for women over 35. I thought it was unfair that if I got pregnant I wouldn't be offered the level of knowledge and control that technology made available for older women. However, that was before I realized how little control I would have over every aspect of my reproductive journey.
Here's the essential dilemma for me: is it worth accepting the (relatively low) risk of actually causing a pregnancy loss to find out if the growing, apparently healthy fetus has detectable medical problems? The correct decision for any couple will depend on a number of things, including: whether knowing that there is a problem will cause them to take any actions that they wouldn't otherwise take, whether they fear loss or a sick child more, and their ability to handle uncertainty.
I have had several friends who refused all testing because they said that they'd carry the pregnancy to term regardless of what the testing revealed. I don't feel that way at all. While I respect the fact that some people's personal/religious beliefs are such that they could not deliberately terminate a pregnancy, I think that I would decide to terminate under certain conditions, especially if the child was diagnosed with a condition that would cause it chronic pain and certain early death with no hope of treatment. For me, being a parent means being able to put the child's interests ahead of my own, and I think that bringing a child into this world knowing that it would find nothing but suffering here is not a decision that I could make in good conscience. However, I also realize that if I were actually in the situation, my thoughts might be different. If there's one thing that infertility has taught me, it's that you never really know how you would feel about something, or what you would do in a situation, until you actually are IN that situation.
Personally, I believe that knowledge=power, so I very much WOULD like to know if there was something wrong with this pregnancy as quickly as possible. What I would do with this knowledge would depend on the actual diagnosis. However, after working so hard to become pregnant, and knowing that at 38, I will probably have limited opportunity for additional pregnancies, the thought of doing anything that would increase my risk of loss, even slightly, fills me with abject terror. As awful as it would be to be blindsided with a seriously ill child on what I hope will be the happiest day of my life, I think that it might be even worse to have to live with losing a child as a result of my own decision to proceed with CVS or amnio. A friend's sister had an amnio-induced miscarriage (of a fetus that the amnio found to be healthy) a few years ago, and this undoubtedly has affected my feelings about these tests. I know that they're usually safe, but I keep thinking "what if I do the test, have a miscarriage, and then never get pregnant again?"
Then there's the issue of uncertainty. Can I really go through the next seven months not knowing for sure? Won't I be a nervous wreck? I don't know. I am spectacularly impatient, but infertility has been good training for living with uncertainty, and I'm certainly better at it now than I was a few years ago. While uncertainty used to feel like a crisis, now it's more of an annoyance.
So, my plan at the moment is to talk to my doctor (I won't be released to an OB/GYN until 11 weeks), have nuchal fold translucency screening, and then make a decision armed with a bit more information.
The short (and easy) answer to the question of whether I'll have CVS is that I don't know yet if it's even an option. Being in a new country means that I am not certain of the standard offerings available for a woman of "advanced maternal age" (oh how that phrase makes me long for the days when being "advanced" was a good thing!) If CVS is rarely offered here, then I don't think I'll sign up to be one of the rare training cases offered at the local medical school. However, if it's standard operating procedure, and the doctors doing the procedure have a lot or experience and low rates of complication, then I'll seriously consider it.
Practical issues aside, however, I am really struggling with the deeper dilemmas involved in the decision to proceed with a "needle test". This comes as an enormous surprise to me. I had always thought that of course I'd sign up for any available test. I'm addicted to knowledge. I love to know what's going on. I remember being 30 and being annoyed at the thought that amnio was only standard for women over 35. I thought it was unfair that if I got pregnant I wouldn't be offered the level of knowledge and control that technology made available for older women. However, that was before I realized how little control I would have over every aspect of my reproductive journey.
Here's the essential dilemma for me: is it worth accepting the (relatively low) risk of actually causing a pregnancy loss to find out if the growing, apparently healthy fetus has detectable medical problems? The correct decision for any couple will depend on a number of things, including: whether knowing that there is a problem will cause them to take any actions that they wouldn't otherwise take, whether they fear loss or a sick child more, and their ability to handle uncertainty.
I have had several friends who refused all testing because they said that they'd carry the pregnancy to term regardless of what the testing revealed. I don't feel that way at all. While I respect the fact that some people's personal/religious beliefs are such that they could not deliberately terminate a pregnancy, I think that I would decide to terminate under certain conditions, especially if the child was diagnosed with a condition that would cause it chronic pain and certain early death with no hope of treatment. For me, being a parent means being able to put the child's interests ahead of my own, and I think that bringing a child into this world knowing that it would find nothing but suffering here is not a decision that I could make in good conscience. However, I also realize that if I were actually in the situation, my thoughts might be different. If there's one thing that infertility has taught me, it's that you never really know how you would feel about something, or what you would do in a situation, until you actually are IN that situation.
Personally, I believe that knowledge=power, so I very much WOULD like to know if there was something wrong with this pregnancy as quickly as possible. What I would do with this knowledge would depend on the actual diagnosis. However, after working so hard to become pregnant, and knowing that at 38, I will probably have limited opportunity for additional pregnancies, the thought of doing anything that would increase my risk of loss, even slightly, fills me with abject terror. As awful as it would be to be blindsided with a seriously ill child on what I hope will be the happiest day of my life, I think that it might be even worse to have to live with losing a child as a result of my own decision to proceed with CVS or amnio. A friend's sister had an amnio-induced miscarriage (of a fetus that the amnio found to be healthy) a few years ago, and this undoubtedly has affected my feelings about these tests. I know that they're usually safe, but I keep thinking "what if I do the test, have a miscarriage, and then never get pregnant again?"
Then there's the issue of uncertainty. Can I really go through the next seven months not knowing for sure? Won't I be a nervous wreck? I don't know. I am spectacularly impatient, but infertility has been good training for living with uncertainty, and I'm certainly better at it now than I was a few years ago. While uncertainty used to feel like a crisis, now it's more of an annoyance.
So, my plan at the moment is to talk to my doctor (I won't be released to an OB/GYN until 11 weeks), have nuchal fold translucency screening, and then make a decision armed with a bit more information.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
News from the blob
I arrived back in Korea last night after 20.5 miserable hours on an airplane (well, 1.5 of those were actually spent in the San Francisco airport on a layover, but those were no less miserable). I had only had about 3 hours of sleep the night before that flight, and I don't think I've ever been so tired. Still, it's good to be home.
Of course being tired didn't stop me from rushing off to the RE the second her office opened this morning for a scan. When the probe went in, the first thing she said was "it's really big!" The blob is still a blob, but now it has a discernable head, rump, and tail, and is measuring on target for a 9 week embryo. I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful. We could see and hear the heartbeat loud and clear. You should have seen the look on my husband's face. Priceless.
Of course being tired didn't stop me from rushing off to the RE the second her office opened this morning for a scan. When the probe went in, the first thing she said was "it's really big!" The blob is still a blob, but now it has a discernable head, rump, and tail, and is measuring on target for a 9 week embryo. I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful. We could see and hear the heartbeat loud and clear. You should have seen the look on my husband's face. Priceless.
Saturday, April 7, 2007
My dad
My father's surgery was on Monday. If you're new to my blog, he had been diagnosed with early stages of cancer of the esophagus, and had to get the majority of his esophagus removed. I'm happy to be able to cut to the chase and report that he handled the surgery really well, and that the pathology report shows that the cancer was caught so early that there is relatively little risk of a recurrence. We are all ecstatic.
Still, it has been a hard week. While the surgery went really well, it wasn't easy on my poor dad. He's not a spring chicken anymore, and this was a pretty major surgery. He has been very uncomfortable, unable to do much for himself, and worst of all, having trouble breathing. So, my mother and I have been by his hospital bed day and night, trying to keep him as comfortable as possible, and to call the nurse/doctor/whoever-the-hell-would-respond when necessary. I had the night shift, so I haven't done much but tend to him, or grab a few hours of precious sleep during the daytime. It has been an exhausting, but also an interesting experience. I realized a few days ago that this is the first time I've ever really been able to do anything for my dad. He's always been there for me, but he's never needed anything from me before. It felt good in a way to be able to take care of him for once. It was also interesting to see how he handled the situation. He's never been a whiner (I got that from my mother), and as usual has been fairly stoic, even though he's utterly miserable. He is also a really private person, so I've been amazed at how gracefully he's handled situations like his daughter taking him to the bathroom, or spending a whole week in a skimpy gown that doesn't quite cover him to his satisfaction. I really can't imagine being as pragmatic about such things as he has been able to be. I am now determined to be a bit less of a wimp the next time I have a paper cut and am considering phoning the paramedics.
I'm scheduled to start my long journey back to Korea later this afternoon. I can't wait to see my sweetie and to FINALLY get that scan to make sure that the blob is still alive and growing. Still, it will be hard to leave with my dad still in the hospital. I guess that's one of the down sides of living on a different continent from your parents.
Still, it has been a hard week. While the surgery went really well, it wasn't easy on my poor dad. He's not a spring chicken anymore, and this was a pretty major surgery. He has been very uncomfortable, unable to do much for himself, and worst of all, having trouble breathing. So, my mother and I have been by his hospital bed day and night, trying to keep him as comfortable as possible, and to call the nurse/doctor/whoever-the-hell-would-respond when necessary. I had the night shift, so I haven't done much but tend to him, or grab a few hours of precious sleep during the daytime. It has been an exhausting, but also an interesting experience. I realized a few days ago that this is the first time I've ever really been able to do anything for my dad. He's always been there for me, but he's never needed anything from me before. It felt good in a way to be able to take care of him for once. It was also interesting to see how he handled the situation. He's never been a whiner (I got that from my mother), and as usual has been fairly stoic, even though he's utterly miserable. He is also a really private person, so I've been amazed at how gracefully he's handled situations like his daughter taking him to the bathroom, or spending a whole week in a skimpy gown that doesn't quite cover him to his satisfaction. I really can't imagine being as pragmatic about such things as he has been able to be. I am now determined to be a bit less of a wimp the next time I have a paper cut and am considering phoning the paramedics.
I'm scheduled to start my long journey back to Korea later this afternoon. I can't wait to see my sweetie and to FINALLY get that scan to make sure that the blob is still alive and growing. Still, it will be hard to leave with my dad still in the hospital. I guess that's one of the down sides of living on a different continent from your parents.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
False alarm
Sorry for the long silence. I've been in the USA for five days now, and it has been quite an ordeal. About 9 hours after I landed, I started vomiting uncontrollably. I couldn't keep anything down, and within two days, I was dehydrated, exhausted, and utterly miserable. I was also near panic, because I thought it was the beginnings of hyperemesis gravidarum, which would be a complete disaster, especially if it struck while I was in the US, where a) I don't have health insurance, and b) I don't have a home. I couldn't even imagine how I would get back to Korea and my husband and doctor if I couldn't stop throwing up. Then on day three, the vomiting stopped and it turned into diarrhea. Around the same time, my friends started getting sick too. It turns out that I had picked up some yucky stomach virus on the plane. By yesterday I was fine. Whew! I actually made one of my business meetings yesterday, and will be heading off to another today. Now I'm just hoping that the embryo wasn't damaged by the turbulence in my digestive system. I didn't have a fever, so I'm hoping that all is well.
In other news, I picked up a belly band yesterday, and several friends have donated maternity clothes, so I'm in much better shape to cope with an expanding belly in Korea, assuming that all goes well.
In other news, I picked up a belly band yesterday, and several friends have donated maternity clothes, so I'm in much better shape to cope with an expanding belly in Korea, assuming that all goes well.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
To shop or not to shop...
I've got a bit of a dilemma right now. I'm heading to the US tomorrow for two weeks. Week 1 will be for a couple of work-related meetings. Week 2 is to be there for my dad's surgery. I'll have a little free time in between, and plan to take the opportunity to do a little shopping stock up on things that are hard or impossible to find in Korea.
So here's the question: should I go ahead and buy a few maternity clothes? The down sides are obvious. If the pregnancy goes south, I'll end up having wasted money and brought home sad reminders. However, there are some major up sides to shopping in the US rather than here. Korean women are for the most part TINY. I'm about 5'7" and am not stick thin. So, buying clothes here is a real challenge. I'm sure that there are maternity clothes sold here that can accomodate my growing belly, but I'm not at all sure that there'll also be room for my J Lo arse, my rapidly expanding boobs, and my corn fed frame. Of course I don't know how much weight I'll gain with the pregnancy, so buying clothes now is also risky since I'm not sure exactly how big I'll be later. Any thoughts?
So here's the question: should I go ahead and buy a few maternity clothes? The down sides are obvious. If the pregnancy goes south, I'll end up having wasted money and brought home sad reminders. However, there are some major up sides to shopping in the US rather than here. Korean women are for the most part TINY. I'm about 5'7" and am not stick thin. So, buying clothes here is a real challenge. I'm sure that there are maternity clothes sold here that can accomodate my growing belly, but I'm not at all sure that there'll also be room for my J Lo arse, my rapidly expanding boobs, and my corn fed frame. Of course I don't know how much weight I'll gain with the pregnancy, so buying clothes now is also risky since I'm not sure exactly how big I'll be later. Any thoughts?
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
One
Well, the big day finally arrived. I went in for the scan, and saw ONE sac, and ONE little embryo. I couldn't see the heartbeat, but the doctor said that she could see it. It was still too faint to measure the heart rate, but the doctor seemed to think that all was well. Whew!
I'm about 1% disappointed that it's not twins, but 99% relieved. While in theory, twins would be wonderful, given our situation (thousands of kilometers away from family and friends, living in a foreign country on a single salary), twins would be really hard. One is perfect.
I'm about 1% disappointed that it's not twins, but 99% relieved. While in theory, twins would be wonderful, given our situation (thousands of kilometers away from family and friends, living in a foreign country on a single salary), twins would be really hard. One is perfect.
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