I'm writing from an odd oasis of calm.  Well, not exactly calm but I am taking a break from doom and worry over the pregnancy.

The whole thing is bizarre.  So many failures and losses have happened that I was ready for negative #6, and suddenly everything is different.


It is a huge gift that so far the numbers and the ultrasound have been unequivocally good.  Nothing borderline.  I am very grateful for that.  I am noticing that my level of trust in this pregnancy is mostly out of my control.  I can jab myself with negative thoughts from time to time – "ow!  there might not be a heartbeat! ow!  it might not last!" but really, what good does it do?  If I get a bad ultrasound next week or whenever, will it really help if I'm lying there in the stirrups saying "I knew it?"  I don't think so.

The symptoms are very cooperative.  I have a sort of ambient nausea that isn't terrible but is just… there, the way my kitty sometimes just puts her paw on my arm very gently.  Here I am.  Still here. 

The mood swings, however, are epic.  I understand how pregnant women can be so annoying.  I understand how a pregnant woman could push to the front of the line saying "but I'm pregnant!"  Insufferable behavior, shoot me if I ever do that, but I just can understand it a bit more.  The hormones are so … big.   Little things become gigantic, minor slights balloon into major insults, filling out a form or fixing a printer precipitate storms of weeping and frustration. 

Other oddities – being pregnant has apparently shoved me way over the reading-glasses line.  I was doing just fine as of my last eye exam with the small print, but yesterday I had to pull out reading glasses – the ones I only need for really small print on maps in the car, ahem – for real. 

I dread writing these little tidbits about pregnancy because of the pain my pregnancy will cause to those who still wait & suffer.  I understand completely the feeling that the rescue boat came for me and left some of you still marooned.  It's not fair.  At least I am not one of those 'hos who got pregnant on the first or second try – I didn't even get pregnant on the FIFTH try.  Nevertheless I understand it if you get tired of reading about this, my transition from IF to pregnant-after-IF.  I don't know how to track unsubscribes from my blog – really, do I need something more to be insecure about? – so I won't even know when you clean me out of your bloglines or whatever. 

It's all just so weird.