If you're checking in here for rumor control, then I am happy to tell you, yes, it's true. We are indeed having another kiddo. Wahoo!
I've been praying since Hazel's birth that the next pregnancy would be totally uneventful, but no luck so far. I felt pregnant almost immediately, so 4 failed EPT tests were just frustrating. I finally called my midwife two weeks into feeling pregnant and she had me go to the lab for a blood draw to test my hCG levels. At about 5 it's safe to assume that you're alive, but you're definitely not pregnant. My first test came back showing a level of 12. The nurse in Peggy's office called me to tell me the results and went on to say that she'd never seen that number before - it felt very low to her. That left her with two assumptions: 1) I was days pregnant or 2) I had been pregnant and was miscarrying so the hCG level was going back down.
Well, that was awesome news. I freaked out; the nurse was totally morose and led me to believe that I was miscarrying. I did a bad thing. I texted Peggy and told her I was panicking, and I asked her what she thought of such a low level. She called back and reassured me that it probably meant I caught the pregnancy early. She scheduled me for a blood test the next morning.
hCG levels should double every 48 hours, so the 12 I got on Tuesday should have been 24 on Thursday - I stubbornly prayed it would be 48 and felt that that would be some major reassurance. It came back at 52. The next test, on the following Tuesday, came back in the high 300s. And a week after that, the hCG count was 8,591. It had skyrocketed. Nate and I began to feel hopeful and expectant.
When we heard from the nurse that the level was at 8,591, she told me to go into the office for an ultrasound. I told her that, by my count, I was barely six weeks along and we wouldn't be able to see anything. She said that the level was high enough my counting was probably off...Yeah, um, not a chance.
We went in for the ultrasound and it was awful. I regretted every second of it. First of all, the tech was the same lady who performed Nathaniel's first ultrasound in June of 2007. She didn't like what she saw at the time and classified me as high risk. And then he died. So I just associate all that baggage with her (sorry, lady - totally unfair, but true).
When I first got into her room she asked about my idea of when I conceived. She interrupted me as I finished saying, "Well, I ovulated on..."
"You can't know when you ovulated."
"I do, though."
"I know my body."
"Yes, but how?"
"Um, I've been tracking my ovulation for two years..."
"Well, okay then."
Gee thanks. I guess she gets a lot of idiots in her line of work. Anyway, she spent the rest of the ultrasound being incredibly condescending. She never lightened up. She kept telling me that I was very premature in having an ultrasound done so early - and I answered that with, "I didn't want one, they told me to come in," every time. She told me that she couldn't even tell me much about the pregnancy. She pointed to the yolk sac and said, "Well, there's a cluster of cells. And there's some fluid. That's all I can say about this."
I walked out of there miserable. She wouldn't even meet me in the middle and refer to my cluster of cells as a baby. And she couldn't even tell me it was a viable pregnancy.
Leaving her far behind, since it's been several weeks since that memorable encounter, I have NOT miscarried, and, at last count, I'm 10.5 weeks along, due August 18th. We were going to wait to tell everyone until we were in the second trimester, but then I found myself having to straight up lie when people asked. I wasn't comfortable with that, so Nate and I agreed that we'd tell our immediate family, and then whoever asked us straight out after that we'd tell them, too. The other morning Nate told met that his State Farm agent had asked...so now he knew before any of our grandparents. It was time to tell everyone. Hands down.
So now you get to journey with me through another pregnancy! It's not very exciting...I feel pretty yucky most days so I lay on the couch and watch Hazel (Miss Independent, so no one worry - she's fine) play on the floor. She crawls over to show me things and hollers at me when she can't see my face from the other side of the couch, but that's about it. She has no idea what's going on in our little family. Oh, mealtimes are a joy. I can hardly cook for Nate and I - he's been making dinner the last few nights. Everything makes me gag. Feeding Hazel is such a chore. It's become a balance between holding my breath, breathing out of my mouth, and never looking at her food straight on. Yeah for pregnancy!