Hi Everyone! It has been over a year since I posted last. And I realized I left you guys hanging – which is something I hate about the online community as a whole… But I wanted to give you an update. I am writing this while breast-feeding a very squirmy 13 month old and watching Yo Gabba Gabba, which is the most fucked up, trippy show I’ve ever seen. It makes no sense but my kid loves it. And secretly I’m waiting for DJ Lance to “break it down” at the end of the show. It’s a sickness.

So a quick update – I kept up acupuncture the entire way through until the end of my pregnancy. 2 times a month until the last trimester, when I went to every week. I stopped herbs until the last week of my pregnancy. My husband and I took all of the Lamaze and Hypnobirthing classes we could take. I was praying for one of those orgasmic births that Gisele says she had, just laughing and smiling while pushing a  human out of your body. I listened to those damn Hypnobirthing CDs nightly, praying to God that my experience would be quick.

But when my completely pro-intervention practice told me that if I didn’t give birth within a week of my due date they were going to put me on a pitocin drip, I went nuts. At that point, I had seen all of the Ricki Lake documentaries I could handle. They weren’t going to intervene with me — at this point I had done everything without meds, and I didn’t see why I should do anything different now. I went to see Pin Lady and she hooked me up with some needles in the ankle combined with electrodes and told me I’d be in labor within 48 hours. Boy was she right. At 5AM the day after I was due, I started feeling a little funky. And by 9AM I was feeling full on contractions. I’m not going to front – there was nothing glorious or orgasmic about it, but it was not as awful as everyone said, or I had hyped myself up that it was. My husband was amazing, encouraging me to keep breathing and reminding me of all the shit I didn’t remember. He called my doula, who said she’d be there shortly, but didn’t show up until hours later because she assumed I would progress slowly like the other first time mothers she had. Active labor started at 9AM and by 1PM my water broke and I was leaving the house to go to the hospital.

I gave birth like a boss. No medicine. No epidural. I got there 8cm dilated, and baby boy was born within 20 minutes of coming in, with 2 pushes. Afterwards I felt like I could run a marathon (and carb loaded like I had…) I felt amazing.  And most of all I felt amazing about what my body could do. (Now dealing with a postpartum body is another story…)

I don’t want to bore you with details, but if anyone is curious about natural birth, doulas and how to avoid interventions, let me know. I did everything except for castor oil. I am still breast-feeding at 13 months, and have dealt with bad baby blues, a retained placenta and thrush. So any questions, let me know.

I hope this last post gives you all hope that start to finish, your body is amazing. It may just be a little confused right now. As Pin Lady says – “it has temporarily lost its way.” Wishing you all the best of luck in your journeys. Off to see Pin Lady in the morning.


Coming Out of Hiding

Okay ladies. I know I said that I had sworn off of blogging. But I’m back. To be honest, I felt a little too sucked in to what can sometimes be a negative dialogue in the fertility community. It can be hopeless and aggressive sometimes. People want to compare battle scars and whose infertility is the worst.  I didn’t feel like it would be conducive to a healthy pregnancy. I also didn’t want to be insensitive to those who were not on this journey yet and be posting a million things about the baby and how great being pregnant was. But I’ve gotten more than a few comments lately, and feel like I need a check in. To at least let you know how it’s going.

It’s going well. Great even. I’m almost 7 months pregnant. It’s a boy (My husband almost shitted on himself when the doctor told us….) My pregnancy has progressed beautifully. I have not had a drop of morning sickness or pain. None. A little fatigue, but nothing serious, and it went away after a month or two. Despite warnings from my old school mother-in-law, I never stopped working out with my trainer and am still doing cardio 4 times a week. I’ve had no stretch marks, no excessive weight gain (12 pounds so far, week 26), no back pain and no leg cramps/sciatica/heartburn/headaches or the  other “normal” pregnancy stuff. Oh, and no cravings. It’s been freaky. Things are really normal.

I always find it interesting when people ask pregnant women “How are you feeling?”, expecting an awful answer, like we’re supposed to be in a constant state of pain. I always feel like I’m disappointing people by having nothing to report. I think a big part of this is because I refuse to believe that I am unhealthy, and that pregnancy is supposed to come with all of these horrible things. Or maybe it’s that me and pin lady were able to get to a great starting point beforehand. Or maybe it’s just that I’m lucky. But either way, I trust my body. I do. It knows so much more than I do. Shit, it fixed itself enough to get pregnant. What do I really know? I’ve also been taking care of myself in other ways – chiropractor every 2 weeks, prenatal yoga every week and prenatal massage once a month. I’m only seeing Pin Lady once a month now, because she says that my energy is staying strong.  She says women are actually stronger when we’re pregnant. We have two life energies in us. It’s incredibly empowering.

Based on my “easy” pregnancy, my husband has been a lazy bum. He thinks pregnancy is a piece of cake. He hasn’t had to do a craving run at 3AM, or do the dishes and cook because I can’t smell raw meat. He doesn’t  have to do shit really. I should have milked it more physically. I’m doing way too many dishes for my taste. Not that it’s been easy emotionally for me (or him). Ladies, these hormones are REAL. Your body changing in front of your eyes can be depressing and profound and shocking emotionally. I cried to no end when my pants stopped fitting. I have broken down sobbing while window shopping in the middle of the mall at normal clothes because maternity clothes are some bull shit. I have been so irrationally irate that people have had to tell me to calm the fuck down. I’m talking about cussing people out and SCREAMING. Please don’t be a telemarketer calling at the wrong time. Or try to sell me something I don’t want. You WILL get cussed out. I tried to explain to my husband that you can hear yourself getting irate. You can hear yourself getting neurotic and going over the edge. But you can’t do anything about it. Literally. You are possessed.

The two not so pleasant (but still fine) things that have come with this is that I have a fibroid that has grown since the pregnancy started, and I have the most vicious case of back acne you’ve ever seen. I’m talking about wearing nothing that shows my back, and acne that will necessitate a come to Jesus talk with my dermatologist once this is over with. But if back acne is the worst thing that happens, fuck it. I don’t care.

The fibroid I have is pedunculated, meaning it’s on the outside of my uterus, instead of the inside. It doesn’t affect the pregnancy or delivery, and it will shrink in size afterwards. So I’m not stressed about it. Because I know my body will figure it out. It doesn’t hurt, so whatever. I had to get an ultrasound to determine that it was a fibroid, and the tech asked me if I knew if the baby was a boy or girl. I said that I was told it was a boy but I hadn’t really seen it. This girl zoomed in on his little peenie and put “BOY” with an arrow on it and printed it out. I literally have a picture of my son’s private parts on my fridge. It’s sick. But my husband is so proud every time he sees it.

So now that I’m nearing the end, I’ve got a new challenge: childbirth. This baby has to come out of me somehow. And I am going to do it naturally. You heard me. No medicine.  Because to be honest and real, why trust my body to heal itself, to carry this baby with no medicine, and the say “oh, but I don’t trust you to finish this out.” What the hell? Stab in the back in a way. My body stepped it up for me, so why should I bail on it now? I am getting a doula. I’m doing hypnobirthing. And I’m going to show this sucker – painful childbirth – that you can’t fuck with me. You can’t. I’m going to finish this like I started – no meds. My husband thinks I am insane. As does everyone else. But what’s new? And maybe I am. But I am going to try my hardest. And I’m hoping writing about it will make it hard for me to chicken out.

More on doulas, hypnobirthing classes and natural childbirth soon.

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Logging Off

Hi Ladies. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I think it’s time to take a sabbatical from my blog. I need to shift my focus from where I was before getting pregnant to how to have a productive, happy and healthy pregnancy. I can’t do that if I’m still getting pissed off about what happened before, and am constantly looking backwards. I’ll still be here to support you guys and will be checking in on you, but won’t be actively posting. If you have questions on acupuncture or my journey, please please email me or leave a comment. Best to all of you!

Pregnancy Week 12.5: I’m going to punch my endocrinologist in the face. Try to stop me.

So I’m doing a diet intervention on myself. Now that PinLady has eased up on my cold food restriction, I asked my husband to pick me up some lemon sorbet. Great, right? Fat free, right? Great. Except while watching some 20/20 Investigation, I looked down and had eaten a full pint. No more. So far I’ve gained a pound, which is all squarely in my little pooch that is forming. Not a big deal, but I’m not going down the “I’m eating for two” road. I made a weigh in chart, based off of how much I am supposed to gain. And no more sorbet. Or junk. I just can’t have it in the house.

I thought that once I got pregnant, especially after the journey, I would have wanted to scream it from the mountaintops. Instead I’m being super cautious about saying anything. I don’t know why. I’m being weird. My mom said the other option is to tell everyone once the baby is actually born. Then I don’t have to tell a soul until everything goes 100% smoothly. She thinks she’s really funny. But whatever. I don’t want to just be a piece of gossip, and I’ll tell my friends who are important to me. The rest can see when my belly starts sticking out.  My husband is turning out to be a mush ball, kissing and petting me more than normal, and checking on me a million times a day. If you knew my husband, this would shock and amaze you.

But on to my good for nothing endocrinologist. This is just a word of warning to all of you ladies out there. CHECK behind people. ESPECIALLY doctors when it comes to your health. As many of you know, my TSH (Thyroid Stimulating Hormone) was 3.43 at my last checkup in May. This is out of range for pregnant women. It should be between .5 and 2.5. The lower the TSH, the more efficient your thyroid is working. When it isn’t working as efficiently, it starts producing the hormone like crazy. Levels of 3.43 are not a huge deal, but my endo wanted to get it under control before it goes up. If your TSH is too high, the baby will have issues forming its own thyroid and potentially have issues. She put me on 25mcg of synthroid, the lowest dosage they can give.

So I got my blood taken on the Monday the week of the appointment, which was on a Friday. I called Thursday to make sure it was in. It was. When I got there, my endo was like “Unfortunately, your levels are at 3.4.” I was like “Oh. That’s what it was last time. I guess it’s not getting any better.” She goes on to say that she should have started me on a higher dosage, and that 25mcg usually doesn’t work for most people – they need more. She says she’s going to double my dosage, and tells me to go to the front to get my slip. I always ask for copies of my labs. And I’m glad I do. I asked the nurse about my testosterone level, because we didn’t discuss it with the doctor. She said it wasn’t tested. I said yes the fuck it was. She printed out the copy of the labs she was going to give me to take home. “See?” she said? I looked at the paperwork, and the fucking paperwork was from May. This is JUNE. I was LIVID. This fucking doctor was doubling my dosage based off of old paperwork. I’m acting a fool in the waiting room, talking about how this was a waste of my money and my copay and time. People were staring. I didn’t give a shit. The nurse ushered me to the back to talk to the doctor. She apologized, saying “Well, the dosage wouldn’t have hurt you.” What the FUCK does that mean?? I lost it. I am never going back there. When they pulled the right results, my level had dropped to 0.83, which is EXCELLENT. Do you hear me? Excellent, with the lowest dosage of synthroid they give, and in less than 2 weeks of usage. My body is freaking amazing.

So lesson here ladies is to watch these people like hawks. Human error is well and good, but not for me. Disgusted.

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Pregnancy Week 12: It’s Been A Minute.

Hey ladies, it’s been a minute since I posted. Part of me doesn’t want to be annoying to my sisters in the search for fertility by posting an update every time something happens to me. But I do want to let you guys know how I’m doing. And give you any things to look for in the future in your pregnancies, which are all in the works. So I promise to not be one of those ridiculous people who posts a picture of every ultrasound and every checkup. That would annoy me, and I would be the person doing it.

Quick update on how I’m feeling: I’m taking the 25mcg of the Synthroid every day. I have to take it on an empty stomach, and I’m starving when I wake up, so I’m taking it at 5AM when I wake up for the 3rd time to pee and then going back to sleep. It’s not making me feel any different, so I hope it’s working. I have been a crazy woman in the gym, still in there 4 days a week for lifting plus cardio, and then doing my daily walks with my fertility-challenged neighbor, who is also pregnant. No morning sickness, no real food aversions except the smell of fish and ketchup. We saw the ultrasound last week, and the baby had hands, legs and arms. So crazy, since last time it was just a little bean. My husband, who is going to every appointment, is beyond excited, and started telling his friends. So far I’ve told my trainer and one of my good friends. I’m being a chicken. I think because I’m not feeling or looking different, it doesn’t feel totally real.

Part of why I’ve been out of commission is because I was spearheading a baby shower for my sister in law. She is the most ungrateful person I have ever met. Ever. She acts like people owe her. Case in point: she opens up all of the gifts, and decides that she doesn’t want to open the cards. I remind her that many people may have gotten large things off of her registry and probably still want to be thanked. She’s annoyed but does it. So I’m sitting next to her, writing down the gifts she’s getting, and she opens the gift my husband and I got for her. Something to the tune of $400. She says “you guys are crazy.” She doesn’t say thank you, nor does she reach over and hug me. WTF??!! I wanted to snatch that shit out of her hands and tell her we were going to cancel it.

Then later, she stands up to thank her mother and her husband for being supportive. The older ladies remind her rather loudly that that is her husband’s job, because it’s his kid. Does she thank all of us who put together the shower? No. What about those of us that visited her in the hospital? Of course not. And how many times has she called me to check on me now that she knows I’m pregnant? Zero times. Just about as classy as one can get.

I have no idea why she annoys me so much. But ooh, she does. I can not stand ungrateful, self-absorbed people. And the fact that I didn’t want to do this shower in the first place didn’t help. Or that she takes the time to send a picture text of her baby 20 times a day while not taking the time to text me and see if I’m doing okay works my last nerve. But, despite that, one of my missions moving forward is to be more zen. And let things roll off my back. I gotta get this under control before the baby comes. I start yoga back up next week (PinLady said it’s ok after the first trimester.), prenatal massage next weekend, and have been seeing the chiropractor. I need to get  my shit right mentally and physically. I have to.

Anyways ladies, more later. Toodles.

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Why is everyone so freaking rude?

So we went to a wedding this weekend. Yes. A Memorial Day Weekend wedding, in a beach town. Because that’s where I want to spend my holiday weekend – stuck in traffic…But that’s all fine. The trip down was interesting, with me having to literally pack a basket of food because I’m so hungry every two hours. And stopping every other hour because I have to pee. It was a long trip. I was exhausted, hungry, and hated everything about the way I looked. My dress, designed to hide my daily bloating, looked awful on me. I was trying to pretend drink with club sodas that I was saying was vodka and tonic, and dodge the group of girls that were chain smoking while trying to talk to me so I wouldn’t inhale the smoke. It was glorious. And by that I mean awful.

And then the baby talk started. My husband’s good friend asks, in front of a group of people “So when are you going to pop out a baby?” W.T.F??!! Who in the fuck says shit like that? How rude is that? I was like “When are you and your wife?” He’s like “Well you’ve been married longer than us.” Who says that? My husband made up some thing about kids costing money, and we’re trying to get everything together. While the friend is talking, his wife is chain smoking, talking about how they’re going to start trying during the fall so she can deliver and have the summer off. Yeah, because that’s how easy it is. You try, and the month you want to get pregnant, that’s when it happens. She said she’d quit smoking when they start trying. I wanted to share with her how important it was to get your body in shape well in advance. Detoxing and cleansing. But she wasn’t ready to hear it. She was too busy throwing back beers.

And the comments kept coming. I was fuming. My husband reminded me that I was pregnant already. But everyone else didn’t know that, and that’s what’s messed up. Weddings can be kind of shitty like that. They’re a happy, happy occasion on one hand, and then an opportunity for others to harass you. It’s not fair.

But one good thing that came out of the wedding is that I decided that I need to clean up my diet. I ate so much coleslaw and little appetizer thingy-s that I almost got sick. I have strayed from the diet that PinLady recommended, and what got me healthy: no flour, soy, sugar, white rice and lots of veggies and fruits. I’ve been eating whatever I wanted, basically. I need to cut it out. So now that it’s written down, I’m going to stick to it. I promise.

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Pregnancy Week 9: Thryoid – 1, Me – 0

So my endo’s nurse ended up calling me back on Thursday. A week after the fact. Thanks idiot. She said she needed the labs from my OB, and she’d call me back. And she did. Quite quickly. She said with my suspected Hashimoto’s, we need to start on thyroid medication now. She wanted to start me on the lowest dose of Synthroid the next day. She was calling in my prescription as we spoke. To intro that situation, she told me a little gem about high thyroid leading to miscarriage, leading to not carrying the baby to term, and oh, did I mention, developmental issues and low IQ? If I don’t produce enough Thyroid, the baby can’t form his/her own. PS, low thyroid production can mean massive weight gain during pregnancy. Not cute.

So I know I’m usually a no medicine girl, but I knew this was coming. I just didn’t know how soon. Taking thyroid medication isn’t really optional. It’s not preventative and extra, like “just in case” Metformin, and it’s best for the baby. I wanted to call my OB before I picked up the medicine, just in case. But of course it was 5PM on a Friday. Luckily my OB was on call. Not so luckily, she didn’t really understand why I called. She was like “Take it.” I said I wanted to check with her to make sure before I did, since she was my OB. “Well that’s why we tell you to follow the advice of your endocrinologist, sweetie. They’re the experts.” Sweetie? I could punch this bitch. I don’t like being talked to like I’m a kid. I am overly tired now a days, and get sick of people quickly. I don’t have the energy to cuss someone out. At least not out loud. I’m not totally sure I like this chick’s attitude.

But I started taking the medication yesterday. So far so good. They’ll take my levels again in 2 weeks to see if the dosage needs to get adjusted. Maybe my metabolism will start working super efficiently and I’ll lose some weight out of this deal.

I still feel fine. No morning sickness. A little fatigue. Still in the gym like normal. Same old. My husband and I are still having sex, although it’s freaking me out a little that his thingy is where the baby is. I keep imagining his peenie popping the little sac the baby is in. My acupuncture is going well. I’m actually looking forward to my appointments because they aren’t  hurting anymore, and I can get a little nap in. I am so sure that acupuncture is a large reason why I’m still feeling so good. I’m sure of it.

We’re telling my family this coming weekend. That should be interesting. I can see my aunt crying right now. I’ll let my trainer know in 2 weeks after my 11 week OB appointment.

So far so good, ladies. Even with the thyroid drama.

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Pregnancy Week 8: My Thyroid is Trying to Fuck Me (And not in a good way.)

So I got my lab work back. And as all of my PCOS ladies know, you don’t trust the nurse on the phone who says everything is “normal”, because people look at lab work quickly and miss things. Or are bad at their jobs and don’t give a shit. Either way, as my Type A sisters know, we also pick up copies of labs and look at them ourselves. So I did just that.

And despite the “normal” diagnosis, I saw that my TSH (Thyroid Stimulating Hormone) is 3.43. The normal scale is from 0 to 2.5, in the THIRD trimester. Evidentally, the higher the number, the less efficient the thyroid is operating. And the higher the TSH, the higher the rate of miscarriage. Amazing. I called back the nurse. She talked to the doctor. The doctor said to chill out. That although it’s a little high, she said she’s not worried about it yet. We’ll test again when I come back in.

The endocrinologist told me before I was pregnant that I would definitely have to be on thyroid medication at some point during my pregnancy because I have Hashimoto’s. Not really sure what that is, but I supposedly as I get older or pregnant, my thyroid operates less efficiently, and I’ll have to take medicine to regulate its function. I’ve been told that once pregnant, the OB is the boss,regardless of the endo. Which makes me feel better, because my endo is a pill pushing bitch. As you all know, I am anti-medicine at this point in my life. I’m working on trusting my body and trusting God. I know things are going to be fine. I just have to make my mind believe that.

To make matters worse, I’m in the process of planning my husband’s sister’s baby shower. It’s in 2 weeks, she invited 100 people, and I just got her guest list to send out the invites yesterday. It’s going to be a mess. And I am going to hear so much shit about why I’m not pregnant yet. I am sure that between this fatigue and the hormones that are raging through my body, I’m going to go off on someone there. I may or may not have mentioned that she had the baby already, prematurely at 31 weeks, due to her preeclampsia. So she wants to have the shower before the baby comes home from the hospital. I don’t know how I feel about that — the baby is 2 1/2 pounds. She’s offered to talk to me about pregnancy. About what exactly, I’m not sure. Maybe about what not to do, because lord knows. She tried to lecture me about being in the gym, and said “Make sure when you do those – what are they called? Curls or something? You use lighter weight.” Yes, exactly the person I want to give me advice about staying healthy during pregnancy.

Meanwhile, my acupuncture sessions are going well. The needles don’t hurt at all anymore, which is new for me. I think my body was just rebelling against getting balanced and was like “Oh, you want to stick me with needles? Fuck you.” And now it’s settled in to it. No morning sickness yet. A little fatigue. I’m still in the gym 4 days a week. Peeing like a crazy woman. And crying a LOT more. I was seriously in tears at the Special K commercial where the lady is on the beach and her cover up blows away. But then she realizes that she doesn’t need it, because she looks great! Normal me would be like “Who the fuck cares?”. But I was so touched. Corny, I know. This estrogen is out of control.

Now if I can only get my husband to stop being such a guy. He’s annoying me. He’s like “Are you really tired already? You’re only 2 months.” Fucker, this is the worst time for fatigue. I basically have something leeching off of all of my energy and nutrients. Sometimes he’s an idiot. I’m smacking him next time he says some shit.  Did I mention that these hormones cause extreme anger too? I literally cussed out the local Italian restaurant because when I ordered my food, they wanted to charge me $2 for Fra Diavala sauce instead of marinara. I’m typically reasonable, and was like “OK, why?” He said that because they make the Fra Diavala fresh, they charged more. When I was driving over to pick up the food, the thought of it made me so pissed off. So I confronted them. Don’t they make all their sauce fresh? Regular marinara and Fra Diavala? They do. Okay….Then he starts on some shit about the ingredients. There are more ingredients in Fra Diavala, he says. I say like what, crushed red pepper? I lost it. Don’t give me some crap. I COOK at home. The poor kid was so upset. This estrogen is making me a crazy woman. My husband better watch out.

Meanwhile, my friend in infertility, who had the miscarriage, is going through her second round of Clomid to grow some more follicles. The first time after her miscarriage didn’t work, but they adjusted her dosage and her body seems to be cooperating. I’m praying things go well for her.

PROGRESS: 8 Weeks pregnant, no morning sickness, moderate energy, TSH 3.43 (a little high), but all else normal.

LESSONS LEARNED: I should say “lessons learning”. I am learning to TRUST my body, that it’s not going to betray me. And to trust God that we can do this. I am learning to relax more, and enjoy this moment, regardless of what the future holds.

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I’ve been out of it lately. I don’t have a real reason why. I’ve just been consumed with this new state of being I’m in. It’s taking a lot of effort to make sure I’m not giving clues to anyone that I may be expecting. Lying to my boss and people at work, making plans for meetings I know I won’t be around for, and lying to friends about why I’m not drinking. I’m blaming it on PinLady. All this acupuncture craziness. People believe it. The other day I was at a sprinkle (a second baby shower), and the husband of the honoree asked me how old I was. I told him. He asked if I had kids. I said no. He said “You better get on it. Isn’t your biological clock ticking?” If I didn’t think it might affect the pregnant woman to not have her baby’s father around when she delivered, I could have strangled him. This fat fucker with a beer gut is telling me about hurrying up to fulfill my life’s destiny? What an asshole. I have no idea why he singled me out. I made some joke about “practicing”. I wanted to kick  him in the nuts. My friend who is having fertility issues was there too. She looked at me and shook her head. I’m sorry. If your husband is that much of a dick, he need not come out in public. Or you have to tell him to shut the fuck up.

My acupuncture was face up this week, the first time in a long time. The pins didn’t really hurt, which is a change for me. PinLady is doing anti-morning sickness spots, and encouraging blood flow to my uterus to avoid miscarriage. And so far it’s working. Not even a little hint of nausea. I’ll be 8 weeks on Friday, so I think that’s pretty good. I like that I get to see PinLady every week, in between my OB appointments, because it lets me know everything is alright. PinLady told me last time my pulse was strong. That coincided with the bloodwork I just got done. All is normal, which is music to my ears. It occurred to me that I need to get PinLady a gift for helping me get to this point. I was always thinking I’d wait until I got through month 3, but what does it really matter? She helped get me here, right? Now what to get her? I have no idea.

At my first pregnancy appointment, my husband came. He was late, and I was about to rip his fucking head off, and cry, but I wasn’t sure which one I was going to do first. I apologized to the nurse, explaining that he was coming from work, like that’s an excuse. Everyone works. Hell, I had just come from work. She told me that she understood — “He’s a man.” Yes, girl, you feel me. When he got there, he was trying to joke around with the doctor, who was actually a new one versus the first time I came in. (They rotate patients around because your doctor may not be on call the day you deliver.) She was cool, but took a while to warm up to my husband. She kept directing her comments to me. It annoyed me. But I forgave her because we saw an ultrasound of the baby. She said everything looked perfect. My husband stroked my head as she did the trans-vaginal ultrasound because he thought it hurt. I took it. It was exciting to see that little thing and to see a heartbeat. The doctor told me not to worry about Metformin. Not to worry about miscarrying, and to enjoy every moment that happens. Because regardless of what happens, I’m seeing a picture of my 6 week old baby. And she’s right. So I am not worrying about it.

I broke down and told my friend that had the miscarriage that I was pregnant. Really early — at 7 weeks. But I felt like she would be more hurt if she found out later that I had been lying to her for months. She took it well. Or at least that’s what she’s saying. She’s on Clomid right now, which isn’t working. I’m trying to remain supportive, and talk as little about being pregnant as possible. It’s tough. As of right now, I’m feeling good, except for waking up 20 fucking times a night to pee, and being exhausted from lack of sleep. But other than that, it’s good.

My husband and I talked about what we’d like to change about ourselves before the baby. We said we need to work together better, watch our tempers with each other, and we both want to strengthen our spirituality. So I’m working on that.

Acupuncture again in a few days. More later. Feeling zen…

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Acupuncture Week 15: My Business Is In The Streets and The Block Is Hot

So when I walked into PinLady’s office this week, she was waiting for me in the lobby. I had rehearsed telling her to wait to tell people in the office until the first trimester was over. But before I had a chance to tell her, she told the receptionist: “You know she got pregnant, right?.” I kind of cringed. Aren’t you supposed to wait? In reality, who am I kidding, right? I’m sure my file says “trying to conceive” all over it, so my business is already in the streets. I am also sure that my pregnancy is not the highlight of the twenty-something receptionist’s life. It’s probably the opposite. All she cares about is what party she’s going to and what lululemon pants make her look sexier. She could give a shit about my pregnancy. My reflexologist came out from the back and hugged me. PinLady had told her too.

But I havent told anyone besides my family, so I feel kind of funny having my business out there in public like that. I haven’t even told my friend, who has been struggling through this infertility battle with me. I feel kind of guilty about that, actually. She has told me all her business (and I mean all….), and I am chugging along, pretending I’m still having issues. It’s kind of fucked up, actually. I feel guilty. But I don’t know what else to do. I think if I tell her it will make her feel worse. I’d rather wait until she has good news.

Me and PinLady talked a lot more this time before she did my treatment. She told me that despite what my endo said, acupuncture is perfectly safe during pregnancy. I mean, does that bitch endocrinologist know anything? PinLady asked me to stop exercising and take it easy my first trimester. Nothing, not even yoga. The jury is still out on that. I want to be healthy and I have been very active since forever. Actually, before all of this, I had just lost like 8 pounds just from adjusting my diet to a PCOS friendly one. I am like 113lbs. For me (I’m 5′), 8 lbs is HUGE. I’ll talk to my doctor about it when I go to my first appointment next week to see if exercise is a problem. PinLady said were done with herbs. As much as I trust her, I’ve also read a lot about not using herbs during pregnancy at all, even in the beginning. And the last ones i was using, when I googled them, had a strong caution against it during pregnancy. I hope it didn’t mess anything up. Makes me a little nervous. But so does everything right now. My treatment was more or less the same this time. Back treatment. My pulse felt good, PinLady says, and I’ll need to come back once a week during the first trimester to guard against miscarriage.

I don’t feel pregnant except for some fatigue and a little cramping. Part if me still doesn’t believe it. My first appointment with my OBGYN is on Tuesday. Even though two nurses said that husbands usually don’t come, I’m bringing mine. He needs to be all up in this like me. Plus, I found out that my first sonogram is actually trans-vaginal, so I want my husband to see what I have to go through, and all the junk they stick up my woo-ha. He’s secretly excited to go, I think. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

I haven’t really taken any time to reflect in this blog on the magnitude of what happened and how I got here. I am in total awe of the Universe, God and the body’s amazing ability to heal itself. I’ve learned a lot about faith and trust. Faith that God has something planned, no matter if you understand it or not. I read a quote somewhere that said: “We are not being punished. We are being fortified.” I thought that was so powerful. And so true. What I need out of life may not come because my Type A personality has it in my plan. It may be something else I need to learn, that I have no idea I’m lacking in. Mine, very clearly, are faith, trust and patience.

Trust was a big one. I had to learn to trust my husband and be totally vulnerable with the feelings I had about my body and my disappointments. I had to trust that he wouldn’t reveal me or use it against me later or be grossed out by my back acne. I had to trust (and still need to trust) my PinLady, that she knew what she was doing. It is so hard to trust blindly. In a person. With little to go on. And no proof. I had to trust myself, that my body knows what it’s doing, even if it has seemed to have “lost its way”, as my PinLady puts it. That battle of trust with my body is still going on. I trust that my body can carry this baby all the way, even if I’ve been told that my chances aren’t too hot. My body is kind of kick ass and can do whatever it fucking feels like, as evidenced by this little bean I have inside me now. No matter what idiotic doctors say. The day before I took my test, I heard clear as day a voice telling me that I needed to know the TRUTH. That my body was healthy. I needed to stop feeding myself all the bull shit, and trust in myself.

And I learned patience, which is so anti-me. Or was, I should say. I am learning. I’m evolving. Everything is not instant. I’ve learned to be patient without worrying about the outcome every day. Which, to be fair, is not really patience at all. It’s deferred worrying. Before I looked at the HPT results, I prayed to God to help me get through either result — that I’d be okay with either one, and whatever was supposed to happen would. I was ready to pick it up and try again. We ladies with infertility “issues” are incredibly resilient. What an amazing talent to have.

And as crazy as it sounds to say, as a person who used to wish I could have snapped my fingers and been pregnant, I am SO glad this was my path. I am glad that I had to go through these struggles, and that I had to put myself out there more than I wanted to, and that I had to learn my lessons. Life is richer that way. No disrespect at all to those of you who have been on this road for far longer than I. And who have been through many more invasive procedures than I could have ever conceptualized. Not to minimize your experience at all, or the fact that the journey is not over. But for me, I’m glad I had to go through this. I’m better because of it.

I know all of these lessons will come in handy while trying to get through a healthy pregnancy. I take them as a blessing. Now let’s kick shitty pregnancy’s ass!!

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