A few weeks ago, I bought a belly book--like a baby book, but for documenting the pregnancy. It's a cute, little spiral-bound book, with questions about your pregnancy, and pages for pictures and notes, week-by-week.
I left the book sitting on the shelf, with the receipt. I wanted to start writing in it, but I didn't like the idea of having to deal with it, in the event of the m/c. So, I kept on giving myself benchmarks--if I make it through this u/s or the next appointment, then I will start writing it.
Each benchmark would come and go, with more great news that Little E was still thriving. I'd feel relieved, and then I'd say I would start writing in the book, but I never got around to it. By the time I was thinking about writing in it again, I'd be halfway to a new benchmark, and so I'd tell myself to wait again. I did this at least three times.
I almost did it again, too. My NT u/s is next Wednesday. After it, I'll again receive (I hope) the confirmation that Little E is still alive. My fatigue continues, and the low grade nausea is definitely ever-present, so I don't have any reasons to question this. I've had such an easy time--no spotting and no cramping to induce major worries. Yet I still fear that we'll just go in and Little E will be gone.
On top of the persistent fear that gradually increases after some times has passed from the most recent confirmation of life, I also experienced cramps for the first time this weekend. These cramps were different from anything I'd experienced before--they were sharp or stabbing, and passed in just a few minutes. They occurred about once each day over three days, and each time, they were in a different spot--the left side, the right side, the center. They weren't major, and I have read enough to know that mile cramping is completely normal. Plus, I didn't have any spotting.
Even knowing that cramping can be normal, I still went and looked it up. What to Expect identified mild cramping as normal, as I expected. I also looked up round ligament pain. The description there sounded exactly like what I was feeling--except that the description was in the fifth month section, and I'm only 11 weeks.
I'm pretty sure this is what I was feeling--just my uterus growing, and I know that's a good thing. A quick check on the online message boards also reassured me that many women feel round ligament pain earlier--13 weeks was commonly cited.
I've never had a m/c, and there's no indication that anything might be wrong now. But my time in the land of IF, as well as on the message boards and blogs, has made this fear an extension of my struggle with IF. I think I'm pretty average when it comes to infertiles in this too, seeing the world through IF-colored glasses. Those glasses certainly aren't rosy--they're tinted with the heartache, failures, waiting, and frustration that comes with IF.
Last night, however, I opened up the belly book, and I started writing. I documented the first 11 weeks, starting with IVF. My fear won't go away, but I also won't let it rule this pregnancy. I won't be superstitious, even though I had moments of regret after sharing the news with my coworkers last Thursday, fearing something would go wrong now that I was really "out."
Beyond fear, however, IF-colored glasses also give me a different perspective on this pregnancy. I enjoy the symptoms, even though they've been so easy to deal with and minor compared to many women. I am cautiously optimistic, even though I have this fear. But more than that, I also don't want people to know about my pregnancy without knowing about my IF.
When I announced the news to my coworkers, I started with IF: "Many of you know I've been doing IF treatment for the past year, and I have some good news to share. After my first IVF, I'm pregnant!" For me, it's important to raise awareness about IF; too many people don't talk about it, and I never liked feeling like it was a dark, dirty secret. I don't tell people I'm pregnant without telling them I'm IF...and I still consider myself IF...I received successful treatment and am pregnant, but without that intervention, I wouldn't be pregnant. I know that differs from others' definition of IF, but IF has changed me, and it's become a part of me.
IF still feels like a dark, dirty secret though, because while I was open and out about IF before the pregnancy, I'm even more open and out about it now. I always thought this would happen, and I don't like it, but it is true. For some reason, it's easier to talk about IVF or IF when you're already pregnant.
When I'm writing in the belly book though, it's not a dark, dirty secret. IF is a part of our journey TTC, and it played a major role leading up to this pregnancy. I can't write about this pregnancy without writing about IF. So, I pick up my pen and write; I don't have to put on those IF-colored glasses because they are always already on.
7 hours ago


