Bed Rest Musings

I read a post by another infertile today that inspired me, there is a line where she says “I will remain infertile ‘til the day I die.”  That line rang so true to me, and so it inspired this post.

I know I’m pregnant but I wish that people in my life realized that I’m not just pregnant, I’ll never be just pregnant, I am and will always be a pregnant infertile.  

While I was laying on the hospital bed Tuesday morning and the nurse told me they were going to admit me for pre-term labor I immediately started bawling.  The nurse asked me if I was OK and all I could say was, “but this baby was so hard to get.”  Thats all I could think over and over.

Two weeks ago, at our 23 week appointment, I found myself asking my OB about viability again.  I told her the truth, that if we lost him I wasn’t sure I could do this again.  I know we still have four snow-babies waiting on us in Vegas but if we lose Marek I don’t know if I’d have the heart to even try again, and then there we were 1 week later in the hospital hearing that we might lose him.  Being in the hospital, all the meds, bed rest, none of it is easy but I will do anything for him.  

I hope this is a sign of how I’ll feel as a mother, I hope this means that having been through infertility will make me a better, more appreciative mother.  I hope that the things that normal moms complain about will roll off my back, I hope it means I will literally sacrifice anything for him.

As I write this Marek is kicking the laptop, I can’t tell you how happy those kicks make me.  

24 Weeks and a Scary Couple of Days

I had planned to write a post on Tuesday about how nice it was to have my last intralipid infusion and to finally feel like a normal pregnant lady.  Unfortunately that’s not the topic of this post, instead I’m writing to you today while on bed rest after a 30 hour hospital stay...

I had my infusion on Friday, I brought cupcakes for my nurses to say a final thank you and make a joke about how we refer to the intralipids as frosting.  Then Blue and I spent the weekend working on Marek’s nursery.  Monday we went to work and all was well.

Monday night while I was showering I started feeling some pain in my stomach so I laid down for a while and things got better.  Then 10 pm rolled around and the pain started getting worse, at the time I really didn’t know what I was feeling but it seemed like contractions and, if so, they were too painful and too close together to mean anything good.  I decided to try and sleep for a bit and see if they’d calm down, I was able to sleep for about an hour at a time.  Finally 6 am rolled around and it hadn’t gotten better so Blue and I threw clothes on and headed to the hospital.

After about an hour of monitoring Marek’s heart beat and my contractions our OB decided to admit me and start an IV of magnesium sulfate, torodol, and antibiotics to try and calm down my uterus.  They also did a bunch of different cultures to check for bacterial infections that can cause pre-term labor.  Luckily my cervix was still long and closed which is the most important part.  

The doctor thinks the contractions were probably caused when I passed a kidney stone which accounts for the pain I was having in my back.  I was on the meds for 24 hours and then stayed in the hospital for another 3 hours while they monitored me to make sure they weren’t coming back.  We also had an ultrasound with a perinatologist that showed little man is doing great.

For the next week I’ll be stuck on the couch/bed, only allowed to stand/sit up for 15 minutes of every hour.  I have another check up with the OB next Tuesday and am hoping that she’ll release me back to normal life, but I’m happy to lay here all day until Marek gets here as long as he gets here safe.

What's in a name?

Naming your little one after infertility is an adventure. 

The first thing Blue and I did when we started trying was lie in bed and giggle about silly baby names, but that was back in the days where TTC was fun and new.  After a while it was painful to think about baby names, they were just another reminder of the little one I didn’t have in my belly. 

About a year into our journey with IF Blue and I fell in love with the name Lincoln and after that there was no question, we would have a Lincoln.  Then the Lincoln dilemma happened…  Quick recap, about a month before our gender scan family friends had a son and announced his name was Lincoln. 

Without fail every name you love gets ruined by a fertile, either some idiot you didn’t like from high school stole it (which you wouldn’t even know about if it weren’t for stupid Fertilebook) or your best friend, cousin, coworker, etc. already used it.  Either way all your favorites are gone by the time you get to them. 

I just couldn’t get past the shared name thing, Linc no longer felt right…

Blue and I wrote down baby names everyday after that, texted them when they came to mind, etc.  By the time his gender reveal came around we had about 20 boy’s names we liked, the operative word was liked, not loved. 

So one night Blue challenged me and said “let’s pick his name tonight.”  That seemed extreme to me, too quick, but I decided we could at least narrow down the list.  At the last minute we each threw on one more name and then name by name started shortening the list.

We finally got down to three names.  One that had some family significance and the two we added at the last minute, and then there was one...  But, the planner in me couldn’t pick our baby’s name in one night!  So, we agreed to try calling him by it in private for a while and see if it stuck, and it did.



I wrote this in the Maui sand for you guys!



The reason we picked Marek (besides loving it) is because Blue was very close with his grandpa who was Polish and so to honor him we decided to use a Polish name (it is kind of like the equivalent of Mark in Poland.)  In Poland it is pronounced Mah-deck, we will make it easy on him and pronounce it the American way, Mer-eck.

His middle name is my maiden name, a shortened version of it is Dewy which was my nickname and my grandpa’s nickname growing up and so we’ll use Dewy for a nickname.

Blue and I mostly call him Marek now, but sometimes Mer.  His sister and her kids (3 and 5) call him Baby Dewy, which is so cute to hear.  The rest of the family seems to switch back and forth between the two.  I’m super happy with our choice and feel like it just fits.

I'm fat and Blue's in the dog house

Before you get worried by my title, our little man is doing great, we also decided on a name but I’ll save that for another day when I’m feeling happy.  Today post isn’t a happy one.  I apologize in advance to anyone that doesn’t feel like listening to me whine, I know my problems are petty in comparison to a lot of people’s, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m sad, this is my blog and I need to vent.

Yesterday we had our 23 week appointment.  Overall it went well except finding out that I’m gaining way too much weight.  It depressed me because I pride myself on being healthy and its so critical for the babies health that I maintain a healthy weight. 

I left the appointment totally downtrodden.  If you’d asked me yesterday I would have told you I’d barely gained any weight since the last appointment.  In truth, in a mere 5 weeks, I gained 10 pounds.  I gained 2 lbs per week, a healthy weight gain at this stage is a half a pound a week.

You know when an anorexic girl looks at herself in the mirror and sees someone much fatter than she is?  I think I have the opposite of that problem, I look in the mirror and see my old self with huge boobs and a cute baby bump, not the reality standing before me…



Yesterday I woke up happy and loving my body, Blue even said I looked pretty before 7 am, then my doctor told me I'm getting fat.

On a side note, I am glad I figured this out after Hawaii, if I’d figured it out before I never would have had the guts to wear a bikini.

On top of the weight woes I’ve spent the last several weeks getting progressively more worried about the fact that I rarely feel our little guy moving and I never feel obvious kicks.  I read the websites and books and they all say by now other people should be able to feel them from the outside and you can start to do kick counts… So being the OCD worrier I am I went into yesterdays appointment with quite a bit of trepidation. 

Our OB found the heartbeat immediately with the Doppler and in just a few seconds heard 3 obvious kicks with it.  I felt none of them.  She said it is probably due to my anterior placenta and nerve function damage from years of horrific pain and scar tissue caused by endo.  F-you endometriosis for managing to make my pregnancy even more stressful.  Somehow you find ways to weasel yourself into every aspect of my life even when you’re supposed to be in remission.

The day just got progressively worse when I couldn’t shake the sadness, I decided to go to bed early so I could wake up fresh and happy.  While I laid there trying to sleep I tried hard to feel the little guy move, at least an hour later I still hadn’t felt anything.  Blue was asleep by then, I gave up, rolled on my side and closed my eyes.  Out of the nowhere I felt him kick my arm (which was rested on the side of my belly.)  It was the perfect ending to such a bummer day!  I shook Blue awake and said “quick, feel this!!  I felt him from the outside!!”  He rolled over and in an annoyed voice said, “cool, but you really need to go to sleep now.”

He couldn’t have said anything worse to me.  I started uncontrollably sobbing, in fact tears are coming to my eyes now just thinking about it.  I’m still hurt and mad at him, I’m not sure he can fix it.  For the record I’m usually pretty easy on Blue.  He is your stereotypical emotionless male and I’m OK with that, he says the wrong things a lot, but he knew how much this meant to me and he was just plain mean.  Maybe the pregnancy hormones are making me overreact but I don’t care, he did the wrong thing.  He gave me lots of excuses after that while I cried but none of them will bring back the joy he crushed the first time I felt little man kick and to top it off he was mean to me this morning.  He’s in the dog house.

I'm back!

Just a quick post to let you all know we made it back from Hawaii safe and sound.  We left Maui and it was sunny and 85 degrees F, we landed last night and it was -9 degrees F.  That’s a 94 degree temperature shift in the wrong direction...

It was a fabulous, relaxing vacation and I am proud to say that I wore a bikini every single day!  I got a few funny glares from old ladies that were apparently appalled at the fact that I wasn't wearing a burka but I also got plenty of fabulous smiles from younger moms who appreciated my F-you to the man.  Maybe if I'm feeling brave tomorrow I'll post a pic as proof... maybe.

For tonight I'm going to enjoy my own bed, snuggling my pups and my pregnancy pillow which I missed more than I thought possible!

I'll work on catching up on all my favorite blogs this week the best I can but it may take me a while, so here is a pre-apology for my sluggish blog commenting.

Vitamin D Needed

I forgot to mention that Blue and I are escaping to Hawaii for a much needed boost of vitamin D tomorrow.  It was pretty last minute, we decided a few days before Christmas and just threw the trip together.  We had written off traveling during the pregnancy because of my placenta previa but when it moved we decided a break from the below zero weather was necessary!

I went swim suit shopping a few days ago.  I do not recommend that you go swim suit shopping while pregnant unless it is necessary.  I had to since my boobs have jumped up 3 cup sizes, I tried on all my bathing suits at home first and Blue and I had a great laugh.

I found 2 that I think should last me for this trip and hopefully through the summer while I’m loosing the baby weight and nursing.  I bought 1 tankini and 1 bikini, in the end I may regret the bikini choice but at the time I felt like showing off my belly. 

I’ve never been a big fan of showing skin… cleavage and belly are things I’ve always preferred to keep under wraps, but pregnancy is the one time you’re supposed to be proud of your big ole belly, so I’m owning it and letting it all hang out! (Well I’m at least going to try it for 1 trip to the beach and see how uncomfortable it makes me….)

I doubt you’ll hear from me much during the next week, so wish me luck with the bikini endeavor and who knows, maybe I’ll be brave enough when I get back to show you a picture?... probably not.

Brokenhearted

I’m sorry I’ve been so absent from blogging the last week but my heart has been breaking for a friend of mine and I just haven’t had the words to express it, or the desire to write anything else.  Kara who writes For we are Bound by Symmetry got pregnant through her first IVF a few months ago and found out this weekend that she lost her precious little one at 9 weeks. 

Years ago, when I first started searching the internet for IF support I found a great online forum and Kara was one of the most supportive women there.  She still is.  As women came in and out of the forums with their BFPs and even for their second BFPs, Kara was there for everyone regardless of the fact that she was still waiting on her BFP.  It’s not often that you find such a selfless person, I know I’m not.  There were many women I would get silently angry with rather than support when they got pregnant after just a few short months trying, but Kara was always there for them, always tweaking their pee stick pictures and saying kind words. Her blog was the first one I read and she was my inspiration to start blogging.

I’ve hoped and prayed for many women to get their BFPs but always at the top of that list was Kara, she deserves to be a mother, and honestly I think hers was the only BFP that has made me as happy as my own.

I’ve never met Kara in person, in fact besides blogging comments and a few emails we’ve had little contact, so maybe it doesn’t make sense that her miscarriage is breaking my heart like this?  I’ve always said I don’t believe God hands out children to those he feels deserve them, but maybe I secretly hope he does?  I secretly hope that God is out there making sure that we’re looked after, maybe not when we ask for it, but at least someday.  I hope that sometimes God looks at us and realizes we’ll be incredible parents and so he spares us the pain of another childless month or year. 

Maybe I’m just selfish?  She has never had a miscarriage after all her years of trying and neither have I.  I’ve always divided infertiles into two categories, those who can’t get pregnant and those who can get pregnant but struggle to stay that way.  Kara and I used to be in the same, can’t get pregnant, category and now she’s moved over.  Maybe I’m scared that means that none of us are spared that end?  Maybe getting pregnant isn’t the hard part? 

What ever the reason is, I wish I could do anything at all to bring her baby back, I wish I could help her feel better, I wish I could take away the fear that will consume her next pregnancy.  I wish I could escape this world of cruelty it seems we all live in because at times I feel like life is just gray skies with occasional rays of sunshine rather than sunny skies with an occasional cloud.

I’m so sorry Kara, please know my heart is with you and Buster.