Baby Steps

2/22/13: An abnormal pap, for the first time in my life. Thanks, pregnancy, for bringing that to my attention.

3/25/13: A colposcopy - the single most uncomfortable experience of my life. I felt the bleeding, I had irrational fear of the outcome, I had pain for hours afterwards, and then I waited…

I started to get worried that they weren’t calling because they were planning to give me the bad news at my appointment on Monday - that they assumed I’d bring someone with me because it’s an ultrasound appointment - hear the heartbeat for the first time. Fuckers. No - no one will be with me. And why would you assume that!? And why would you wait? You told me it would take a week to get results back and the colpo was LAST MONDAY.

4/3/13: I called and left a message with the nurse.

Today: She called, first thing, and apologized that’d I’d had to wait :) The doc has been out all week so he hasn’t reviewed the results. But she did. And whatever is/was in there is benign.

Phew.

I feel symptomless most of the time. I’ve read about cramping and moodiness and food cravings and food aversions but I can’t say I know what they feel like. I’ve been tired (but I’ve had a cold); my boobs have been sore, but not to the point that I feel the need to complain.

What a relief. I had an appointment with a midwife yesterday. This is much closer to the experience I’m hoping for: far less focused on testing and quantifying the pregnancy…. more about sharing information so I understand nature’s course.

Getting an email from Dr. P was like losing 15 pounds. Reading that his description of my pregnancy included the words “few or no medical issues” was such a relief. That he supports my working with a midwife felt even better. I have an appointment with said midwife on Monday morning. Feeling like I’ve taken a step in the direction of finding someone to do this with, someone I want to rely on for the whole pregnancy, is awesome.

Last night I told my cousin, who’s more like a sister. It’s early to do that, and I feel a little guilty about burdening her with this and asking her not to share it. But ultimately I feel so much better about having told someone who will love me anyway and by whom I’ve never felt judged.

I also told the friend who I’d asked about an OB that I wished I hadn’t told her. I wish the knowledge was still mine alone. I said too much. She shouldn’t know who the dad is.

I feel badly, but I couldn’t listen to her not acknowledge that my discomfort with the provider was legitimate. Her responses were so defensive that I’d hung up on her earlier. I couldn’t finish a sentence without her interrupting to explain, as if to a child, that my experience there was normal and I shouldn’t expect anything different. I don’t know how to tell her that I’m looking for a different experience from hers. That I need different things than she needed. I don’t really have a partner in this. Not an every-day partner. I’m not even sure he wants to know what’s going on with appointments. Maybe he will, but for now I feel like it’s that much more important to find a provider who can help me identify and parse options without leaving me feeling judged because I don't have a partner to do that. I do not need someone who will hand me brochures and who seems to expect that I’ve done all kinds of research. I'm looking for someone who can support a less clinical experience, which is what I’m hoping for. I’m not looking for empathy. I just don’t know what I don’t know.

I started a Tumblr page on October 11, 2011 with the post below. I’d decided that it was time to put into writing that I really wanted to make this baby thing happen. Writing has always been my preferred method of organizing my thoughts, so why not blog?

I knew nothing about blogging. I thought I could be anonymous. But a friend’s boyfriend found the page and started following it, and I realized that I wasn’t ready for anyone to read my thoughts on this topic, to react or respond or judge…. any of it. So I started posting silliness, like running stats and videos. And eventually I bailed on the whole thing.

But that day I’d gone to see an OB for “pre-conception counseling.” I wanted to talk to someone whose job it was to know what my risks are, not to friends who’ve read internet-ness. He was very objective about the fact that while age is a factor, it’s a much smaller factor because I’m generally very healthy. And that the most important thing for me to consider is how I view prenatal testing for Down’s (or other conditions that have higher incidence in older women):

I don’t care to know

I want to know, but knowing won’t influence my decision about whether to maintain or terminate

I want to know, because results WILL influence my decision about whether to maintain or terminate.

He recommended some basic blood tests and offered to connect me with a fertility specialist, not because he anticipated fertility issues (clearly, there aren’t any), but because fertility specialists are the most familiar with the non-traditional ways that women without partners might be able to conceive.

I liked him. I liked the time he was willing to spend with me. I liked that he appreciated my joke about the cheap way being going to a bar on night… I still have the followup letter he sent. And as I consider my lack of affinity for the practice I visited on Friday morning, I realize that I do have another option :)

Anyway, here’s the beginning:

What do you want to be when you grow up?

I dislike this question. Just as much as I dislike “Where do you see yourself in 5 years” or “What professional goals do you have.” I wish I could claim that I’ve never been goal-oriented, but I’m pretty sure I can’t. Not if I’m going to be completely honest with myself. Outwardly I might appear to be process-driven. But inwardly I’m simply terrified of failure. I’m terrified that I will let someone down or not be as successful at something as people expect. So it’s not that I’m not goal-oriented; I just don’t set goals. I’m afraid of not meeting expectations — even my own.

So, what do I want to be when I grow up? A mom. A stay-at-home mom. Why? I have no idea. What have I done to “achieve” this goal? Not a damn thing. But still, I want to be a parent. I’ve “joked” about wanting to be a mom since I was in college, because joking is easier than being serious, easier than setting the goal and actually working towards achieving it… especially when I talk about something that seems so far-fetched.

Maybe I want to give myself the chance to be as a parent what I missed as a kid: present and sober. Maybe I want to feel like I have a family again. But I haven’t acted on those wants; I haven’t actually set that goal.

Until now.

I’m not thrilled with my choice of provider. I didn’t really make a choice. I asked my best friend for the name of her OB and the office was able to see me the following day. Lucky me.

I feel trapped by the first appointment, and I really didn’t have good feelings about the NP (who I’ll wind up seeing half of the time!) I feel silly thinking I should go do that all over again somewhere else. How does that even work? Is it really like starting all over? The pregnancy doesn’t start all over again…

And I can’t even begin to imagine how to choose a provider.

The directions, which I read three or four times, say to re-cap the stick and leave it for two minutes.... but not for longer than 10 minutes.  They also say things like too much pee, or too little pee, or too dilute pee can make the test not work right.  And don't ever tip the stick "up," because that can ruin the test, too.  

Anyway, I counted to 5 while I peed, keeping the stick tipped down, recapped it, put it ever so gently and carefully on the counter next to the toilet, wiped, flushed, stood up.... and there was a +

That was not 2-minutes.  That was barely 20 seconds.  So I looked at the directions again.  Maybe + doesn't really mean pregnant.  No. it does.  BUT, maybe 20-seconds to too little time... so I walked out of the room and looked at the clock: maybe in two minutes, the - would disappear and the + would be a | 

No.  Nope.  No again.

But home pregnancy tests aren't totally reliable, right?  I mean, look at all the things that can make them NOT work!  So I'll go to a doctor.  

That was Wednesday.

On Friday morning at 8:15, the nurse walked me to a bathroom and told me to pee in a cup and then led me into an exam room and said, "Congratulations."  I told her not to get ahead of herself, that I didn't want to waste her time, that I didn't really believe the test I took -- after all, I've been on the pill for a LONG time.  I've had otherwise unprotected sex many times while on this same brand of pill.  Why would the pill NOT work now if it worked all those other times. Maybe this is just early menopause or the stress of a new job and travel and an uncomfortable living situation and a new relationship...

So she left and tested my pee herself... and then came back and said "Congratulations" again.

Holy Shit.  Grin, panic, cry, laugh, sweat.... Breathe.

This timing isn't ideal.  

Two and a half years ago, I was ready for this.  My job, my home and my savings were all such that I was comfortable with the idea of not waiting until I was married, or even in a committed relationship, to try to have a baby.  I was 34 and I'd decided that it was time to make motherhood happen.  

Now, my job, while allowing me to work from home, requires not insignificant travel.  I'm currently living in a friend's spare bedroom.  My savings were significantly depleted by several events in the last 2-years.  

But that's only part of the conflict.  The other half of this equation is him.  "We" are a pretty new phenomenon, and most of our friends don't even know there is a "we."  He is in an even less stable set of circumstances than I am. Having just taken steps to explore some business opportunities in a different time zone, I'm not even sure how much of a "we" there really is.  

"We" came into tentative being after a few years of sharing friends, and insults, morphed into a few months of spending a lot of time together and really enjoying one another's company.  Then a few weeks ago -- maybe 6 or 7 or 8?? -- we crossed the line.  There was no announcement to friends, there was no noticeable change in us in the presence of our friends or families.  We were exploring the other side of this line very privately. 

I was happy not to feel watched by anyone.  It seems to me that friends do that when friends start dating... whose baggage weighs the most? who changes? what changes? what little (or big) dramas can they witness?  But in the safety of a mostly invisible relationship, I was starting to open my mind to the idea of opening mySELF to someone else.  I felt safe around him.  I trusted him.  I felt good about myself.  I didn't feel like this was a rebound or a fling. 

I don't know how he feels.  I didn't ask before he left.  I should have asked more.  I should have said more.  I'm really good at NOT saying the things I should say to be sure that someone knows I care.  It's a skill that has led to the demise of most of my past relationships.

But it's early in this.  There's no reason to talk seriously about defining things, feelings about marriage, kids, toothpaste brands...  He's looking to start a new business.  Great!  Exciting!  It'll take him away from the city we live in? Well, okay. I can still support it: work takes up a lot of our lives, but it doesn't define our lives.  And gainful, challenging, enjoyable employment goes a long way towards contributing to feeling good about life.  Nothing about a relationship this young should drive either of us away from making positive changes to our lives.

But now there's this +