It is weird and baffling to me that I crossed the eight-week mark last weekend. Six felt like a milestone, because I'd never made it that far before. Seven felt like a milestone, because I'd REALLY never made it that far, and my ultrasound during that week showed me a baby that looked a teensy bit like a baby, and I got a picture of it to keep. But eight has come and gone without much fanfare.
Don't get me wrong, it's been a reasonably eventful week and a half. I got stuck in the middle of trying to get the hospital to send my ultrasound results to my RE, and trying to make sure that they actually received the fax, and that all just took more time than it should have. But then, once my RE had the results, I was cleared to make a first OB appointment.
I really am not thrilled about being released from my RE to a local OB. Because everybody at that RE's office knows me so very well. Not only have I built up relationships by hanging on there for a year and a half, but they have also seen me through five cycles, and a pregnancy loss, and now this pregnancy. I advocated to the city council for their new building, and they turned around and showed me kindness beyond kindness. Also, I like being monitored week by week. I don't like that I don't have another ultrasound until 20 weeks. I don't like it at all. I like being under the care of folks who are used to micro-managing conception and pregnancy!
I made the phone call to our local OB group, however, because there was really no good to come of not doing it, and this past Monday I had an initial consult with the OB nurse coordinator. It was pretty much an orientation to pregnancy care. Lots of health history questions, lots of basic information about nutrition, an overview of the schedule of doctor appointments between now and birth, and information about tests and screenings that are available to me. I couldn't quite make sense of the fact that this nurse was connecting all the dots from pregnancy to baby. I mean, duh. 99% of people who she sees probably make the very normal, sensible assumption that you go to a doctor when you're pregnant in preparation for having a baby.
My brain is still stuck on seeing doctors to make sure I get and stay pregnant. Babies are just nonsense talk to me right now. I have certainly not made the assumption that I'll make it all the way to baby stage. I'm already assuming the worst over this last week and a half, with one slight spotting scare after my last ultrasound, and too many intermittent cramps for my comfort, and this week, a strange lack of symptoms of any variety (and it even feels like I'm losing weight, even though I'm eating everything in sight, which is not so much out of hunger but out of stress). I just have this weird fear that this little hedgehog stopped growing the second that last ultrasound was finished, and that I'm just pretending to be pregnant, and now I've brought an OB nurse and doctor into my weird delusion.
Mostly, I don't like that people want to treat me like I'm pregnant. Just in case I'm not.
And I'm not sure that this is fear so much as it is dread. Or not dread so much as it is being prepared for the worst, just in case. If I were just able to know that today, right now, there's still a baby and a heartbeat, maybe I'd calm down.
Don't get me wrong, it's been a reasonably eventful week and a half. I got stuck in the middle of trying to get the hospital to send my ultrasound results to my RE, and trying to make sure that they actually received the fax, and that all just took more time than it should have. But then, once my RE had the results, I was cleared to make a first OB appointment.
I really am not thrilled about being released from my RE to a local OB. Because everybody at that RE's office knows me so very well. Not only have I built up relationships by hanging on there for a year and a half, but they have also seen me through five cycles, and a pregnancy loss, and now this pregnancy. I advocated to the city council for their new building, and they turned around and showed me kindness beyond kindness. Also, I like being monitored week by week. I don't like that I don't have another ultrasound until 20 weeks. I don't like it at all. I like being under the care of folks who are used to micro-managing conception and pregnancy!
I made the phone call to our local OB group, however, because there was really no good to come of not doing it, and this past Monday I had an initial consult with the OB nurse coordinator. It was pretty much an orientation to pregnancy care. Lots of health history questions, lots of basic information about nutrition, an overview of the schedule of doctor appointments between now and birth, and information about tests and screenings that are available to me. I couldn't quite make sense of the fact that this nurse was connecting all the dots from pregnancy to baby. I mean, duh. 99% of people who she sees probably make the very normal, sensible assumption that you go to a doctor when you're pregnant in preparation for having a baby.
My brain is still stuck on seeing doctors to make sure I get and stay pregnant. Babies are just nonsense talk to me right now. I have certainly not made the assumption that I'll make it all the way to baby stage. I'm already assuming the worst over this last week and a half, with one slight spotting scare after my last ultrasound, and too many intermittent cramps for my comfort, and this week, a strange lack of symptoms of any variety (and it even feels like I'm losing weight, even though I'm eating everything in sight, which is not so much out of hunger but out of stress). I just have this weird fear that this little hedgehog stopped growing the second that last ultrasound was finished, and that I'm just pretending to be pregnant, and now I've brought an OB nurse and doctor into my weird delusion.
Mostly, I don't like that people want to treat me like I'm pregnant. Just in case I'm not.
And I'm not sure that this is fear so much as it is dread. Or not dread so much as it is being prepared for the worst, just in case. If I were just able to know that today, right now, there's still a baby and a heartbeat, maybe I'd calm down.
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