Today, I graduated. I was in for my 9 week sono, and I knew my day was coming, but I wasn’t sure it would be today.
We had a great visit at 8 weeks. Measurement: 8w1d. Heartbeat: 151
We had another great visit today, at 9 weeks: Measurement: 9w0d. Heartbeat: 165.
And with that, I was done there. They had done their job, and it was time to hand me over to my OB.
The past two visits have been so good. So healing. There was still the nerves the night before and the heart palpitations the morning of. There was still the deep breaths on the table, waiting to see what we would find.
But this time, there was excited chatter as the sono tech explained what we were looking at. Questions not laced with fear and dread. Laughter.
Laughter. During a sonogram. Imagine that. Something I’ve never experienced.
I never had an 8 week sonogram without getting ominous, hopeless news. I never had a 9 week sonogram with a baby that survived.
This time, I did. Not just ‘surviving,’ but ‘doing great.’ ‘Strong.’ (Their words). The wiggling of the hands and feet buds.
Never had that. But today, I did.
A year ago, I had just found out I was pregnant with number #2. Right around my mom’s birthday. That was my gift to her – news of grandbaby #9. But within weeks, it was over.
This year, I’m 9 weeks along with a healthy pregnancy.
I still have my worries and fears, but with each positive sonogram, I am breathing a little easier.
I’m feeling pretty nauseated on most days. It comes on at 3pm and 8pm like clockwork. I have it through most of the night, so sleep isn’t so great lately (guess I should get used to that. For the rest of my life, lol). I don’t really have a lot of symptoms otherwise: boobs occasionally sore, but not much; fatigued at times but not consistently; crazy dreams – but that is really it.
Work is definitely exhausting for me right now (a big reason why I haven’t been blogging. So much take-home work, so worn out by the time get home). The beginning of the year is always draining no matter what, but I’m teaching a new class this year as well as trying to get caught up on the summer projects I didn’t get to finish. On top of the normal stuff. All of which wearies me.
My clothes are getting tight, and my belly is pushing out. Not sure if it is bloating, hormones, leftover IVF meds or whatever, but I’m bigger. And, it’s getting harder to hide at work. It looks like I’ve been pounding down the cookies, but I hate people thinking I’m just gaining weight for no reason! We still have 3 more weeks until our news is public.
I have a feeling (and a fear) that our news is more public than I’d like. Now, I know. It’s probably my fault. I mean, I blog about it. It’s out there. But, I guess I just don’t want random people to know about it yet. For instance, a student in our school – one I don’t know and have never had in my classes – asked my coworker ‘how far along is Mrs. Landry?’ What????
I don’t look that pregnant – so, someone must have said something. That’s the kind of talking I don’t want. I guess I want to be the one to control who knows and who doesn’t. Frustrating. Even though it would be easier to tell, I know it’s smarter to wait until 12 weeks to share it officially.
So, what’s next? Not sure, exactly. I dropped off my records at my OB today, and hopefully, they will call me tomorrow to schedule an appointment. I’m not sure how often they will want to see me. There was something very comforting about my RE looking out for me so closely. I’ll miss that.
It was bittersweet leaving there, today. As they were getting my paperwork today, I said, ‘So I guess this is it, then?’ And it was. And, suddenly, I got all choked up. I started thinking about all we had been through, the past years of miscarriages, failed treatments, bad news, disappointments, heartaches, so many days of fear and dread, so many nights of crying myself to sleep…
And here we were. Pregnant. With a healthy pregnancy. Graduating. And I started tearing up. I felt so grateful for this team of people who had helped us so much. So grateful.
So I gave a hug to the doctor, crying. To the nurses, crying. To the sono tech, the phlebotomist, the NP, the receptionist – crying the whole time. I was sad to leave them. A little bit scared to leave them. I felt like they were all on ‘Team Landry,’ coaching us and cheering us on – an intimate part of our this whole roller-coaster, emotional experience – so invested in our failures and success. And finally – something to celebrate.
It was really hard to say goodbye to them – even though I knew that the fact that I was leaving was a really, really good thing. They had done their job. They were tools in God’s hands to help us get pregnant. Part of a miracle.
Another major milestone reached. Many more to go, but I’m going to celebrate each one.
All I can really say is – to God be the glory. It’s all Him. We still have a long road ahead, but I’m sincerely moved to tears thinking about how good He has been to us. Humbled. Thankful.
And I’m smiling. It’s graduation day.
[And for my IF sisters still in the fight, I'm praying diligently for you, for your miracles. God doesn't have a limited supply. I'm still following your stories, and I'm still praying. Thank you for your prayers and well-wishes, even though you are still struggling through yourselves. I'm sincerely touched, and I'm believing God for your babies.]
[Photo Credit: Pixabay]