9th week ultrasound

Hi again.

Wow, what a week it's been. I've been a very bad blogger in that I have not blogged at all. I have been sleeping and eating. I have not been paying bills, I have not been cleaning my house, I have barely been keeping up with the laundry. Who knew that when you sleep 14 hours a day every day (and then watch two hours of reruns on TNT while you're "waking up"/throwing up) you just don't get the same amount of things done.

So here I am well into my 9th week. I still have two babies in there and they look fantastic. I had an ultrasound on Wednesday, and you can really see them taking shape.
In this shot of Baby A , his/her head is on the left side, and little feet are on the right side. You can make out little arms, too, well, right where arms are.

And here is Baby B, a little tougher to make out, but all seems well with him/her, too. Both babies have good cardiac signs, and are the right size.

Okay good to see you, thanks for coming, please leave now...

Yesterday morning I was expecting the cabinet makers to come and install the doors on the new built-in unit....only it rained, and in Southern California, that means everything grinds to a halt...especially in the construction business. The first priority is to cover their outside jobs, and make sure any lumber or other supplies that are stored outside are safe from the rain....

....and so my cabinet guys showed up at 12:30 p.m. rather than 8:00 a.m. ...and things didn't go according to plan. The guys looked like they hadn't done a thing by 1:30, and by 2:30, only 1 of 6 doors was installed. I've become used to napping around 1 in the afternoon because that's what the babies tell me they would like, so by 3:00 it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. Finally around 4, they finished the doors, only to tell me they forgot to bring the pull-out shelves that go inside the cabinets to hold the DVD, Tivo, etc. Great...still not ready to paint.

At a little after 4, Ajay got home from work and I was absolutely positively walking in my sleep. And he's the one that went out into the world and used his talents to bring in money...but then again, I'm guessing he didn't have to produce enough energy and calories to produce two new human beings, did he? I guess I do deserve some credit after all!

Getting bigger....

My sister-in-law, who is 22 weeks pregnant with her second baby right now told me that during her first pregnancy, she kept a diary of her belly circumference measurements, as well as what she liked to eat at certain times, and what she weighed from week to week. Now she is having fun writing down the same info about this pregnancy and comparing it to the last. Great idea.

Only, I consider this blog that many people read to be my diary of sorts, and I'm frankly horrified to put my weight out there in black and white for the world to see. Okay, I realize that I have, like, 6 readers, but still....don't make me get on a scale. And here's the thing...I'm not a girl who has ever been over weight...I've had skinnier times and fatter times like everybody else (except my darling petite sister, but she doesn't count because while she is adorable, her lack of gaining a single ounce since high school is a little freakish...no, really I mean admirable, but I'm a jealous chubby girl right now and sometimes things don't come out the right way!). Anyway, I tend to get really in shape, and then burn out on exercise, and then jump back into it and get back in shape, and then slack off. So while my weight is usually around the same, my body shape tightens and loosens depending on where I'm at.

Until fertility drugs...that is. During my pre-in-vitro drugs, I gained at least 10 to 15 pounds from the combination of Follistim, Lupron, Repronex, steroids, and the stuff to slow down my thyroid. I felt like a butterball by the time I weighed in before my egg harvesting surgery...and the scale didn't lie...I was a butterball! But the good news was is now that I'm off the drugs, a lot of that bloated, gassy feeling has gone away and I did drop nearly all of the "drug weight".

This morning, however, I woke up feeling like my belly actually grew over night. I thought it might be time to join my sister-in-law in belly measuring. Before the pregnancy, my waist was 28 or 29 inches. Today, to my complete shock.....34.5 inches. Holy baby Jesus! When did that happen?

Well, considering the babies are now little raspberries, and the ultrasound this week showed that my ovaries are still the size of baseballs, and considering my new and improved boobs are the size of, well, let's see here...a cantaloupe?...I guess everything is changing pretty rapidly. But if I'm already almost 6 inches bigger around the middle and only 8 weeks prego, I dare ask, what will I measure in June? July? My goodness...this is frightening....how will they fit in there...will I be able to breath? Will I just need to hook up a catheter because my bladder will be constantly compressed?

Why did I measure it? Why???? What I thought would be a fun little thing to do has freaked me out. If the babies weigh an ounce now, what about when they weigh 6 pounds each? Okay just to be clear to the universe, I'm not not NOT complaining. If I have to be as big as a house and on total life support in my final month of pregnancy to keep my lungs and heart and everything else functional, that's totally fine. I was just thinking it through...that's all...no complaining! Happy!!!!

Breeeeeathe......inhale...............exhale.........inhale........exhale......

8 week developmental progress

Here's some info I got from Babycenter.com....

The babies are now 5/8 of an inch long, about the size of a kidney bean.

New this week: Webbed fingers and toes are poking out from the baby's hands and feet, their eyelids practically cover their eyes, breathing tubes extend from their throat to the branches of their developing lungs, and their "tail" is just about gone.

Their arms have lengthened, too, and their hands are now flexed at the wrist and meet over their heart. Their knee joints have formed, and their feet may be long enough to meet in front of their body. In his brain, nerve cells are branching out to connect with one another, forming primitive neural pathways.

A houseful of barfed-in sinks

This morning morning started with a good barf in the toilet. I'm used to it happening in the sink while brushing my teeth. I've come to know that brushing my teeth the moment I get up is a big no-no. So today I headed for my computer to check email, and I felt that nagging feeling...What's going on? I just felt so mediocre a minute ago and now..run run run....blaaaaah.

From the bathroom sink, I went to the kitchen to take my new anti-nausea prescription, which I reserve for days that begin like this. I don't take them for heartburn, I don't take them for general nausea which could be all day every day. I only take them if barf happens. So, once in the kitchen, I opened the cupboard, reached for a glass, and oops!!! run run run......blaaaah, right in my freshly cleaned kitchen sink.

I finally get the pill down, and feel relatively sure that it'll work it's magic, but am on constant guard that IT might happen again.

At the end of 6 weeks, the morning sickness came like clockwork...just like all the early pregnancy articles I've read said. It seems like no one can agree on singular reason for morning sickness, why it effects some and not others, and why different things trigger it. Is it elevated hormones? Is it that your abdominal contents are being shifted around to make room for your new huge uterus and all the other stuff doesn't like getting shoved out of the way? Or is it the baby Jesus's way of telling new Moms that from this point forward, it's not about you anymore. (Don't feel good? Too bad, get up. Feel like throwing up? Too bad, go feed the baby. All you need is a little more sleep? Maybe in the next lifetime). It's all out of your control from this point on.

And just in case I'm right, and this morning sickness is trying to teach me that I'm not going to be in control for the rest of my life, please hear me, whoever you are, that I get it. I don't need any more barfing to understand...the babies have taken over.

My big ugly Taco Bell secret

A few weeks back, I may have mentioned that on a certain night when nothing else sounded edible, I asked Ajay to drive me to Taco Bell for a Mexican Pizza and a Taco Supreme...make that two Taco Supremes...see? I was already trying to make it sound less horrifying than it is.

What I have refrained from telling you is that since that night, I have opted for the Taco Bell option 2 more times...within 2 or so weeks. Here is the disclaimer part...I have not eaten at a fast "food" establishment in a very long time prior to pregnancy. I use quotes around food to point out that I really don't think fast food is food at all...rather chemically altered dirt and colors mixed together to trick us into eating it.

So last night on Ajay's way home, he asked if I wanted him to pick something up. Since I can't tolerate a whole lot of smells these days, I haven't been cooking at all...my poor husband. Anyway, nothing sounded good again...I had suffered the majority of the day with really bad nausea before getting my new prescription for nausea filled...so I was at a loss. He said, "how about a Mexican Pizza?" "No", I replied...then, "well, maybe....umm, how about a bean burrito? and maybe a Mexican Pizza, too?" To which Ajay responded with laughter. Not laughing with me...laughing at me.

My new big pants

On Sunday, Ajay and I braved South Coast Plaza in search of pants that are not painful, and yet are not made of sweatpants. It seems I've outgrown all of mine.

So we headed off to Gap Maternity. Let's just say that I've never before known how a stretchy waistband on the top part of jeans could be beneficial. I've seen the demi-panel pants before, but I guess I never really got it. Here is a picture of what I'm talking about....



Now I'm the proud owner of two pairs of stretchy-topped demi panel jeans, and I love them. I love them I love them I love them. They don't make me feel like a big fatty...they feel just right. Where my old pants judged and offered constant painful reminders of my bigger self, my new stretchy topped jeans do no such thing. They are forgiving in the way a good friend forgives. They anticipate my needs and provide adequate stretchiness. They are kind in their roominess. Thank you, Gap Maternity, for truly understanding me.

8 week old teddy bears

Yesterday's ultrasound went well. We are now at the teddy bear phase...there is a visible head, visible little arm stumps, and visible little leg stumps. The spinal cord is visible, and the little bitty heart is pumping away.

Here is the first baby, with little white "X's" measuring the length of his/her body.


And here the second baby is highlighted with white "X's". This baby is sitting behind and below the first baby, but Dr. H assures me this baby will literally come around and have his/her day in the ultrasound spotlight. Dr. H was able to see cardiac activity in both babies, so all is well.


They also drew blood and checked my hormones and found everything to be a-okay. What better reason to celebrate with my new perscription strength anti-nauseum pill and a big fat nap.

Shhhh, I'm sleeping

I realize I've been really lax on writing over the past week or so...my stories and perceptions about things related to pregnancy have become lack luster or non existent. There is a reason why.

I've been sleeping. All the time. This past weekend, I had to take a 3 hour nap during the daytime to be able to join friends Friday night for dinner at 7 p.m. Because dinner at 7 means that I'd probably have to stay awake and participate in conversation until at least 9:30...maybe even 10!!!!

On Saturday, Ajay wanted to go to a wine tasting---it was the "big one" of the year...they would be opening some great and pricey stuff. Ajay deserves to spend his very few days off in ways that he enjoys, and I wanted him to be able to go. However, knowing that I can no longer tolerate the smell of red wine (I know...it's insane...I'm the biggest wine-o I know when I'm not pregnant, and now this????), and knowing that Ajay would enjoy the tasting much more with a friend, I offered to drop him and a friend off at the tasting and would then run some errands. That would also assure that they could have a very good time and not worry about driving home. So we decided that the plan was excellent, and on Saturday, I dropped them off at the tasting.

With the car to myself and at least a few hours to accomplish my errands, I headed off to Home Depot to pick up a carpet rake for my new shag rug...it's shedding so much that it's too much work for our vacuum. Home Depot should have been about 5-10 minutes from the tasting...but I forgot...it's the holiday season and everyone on the road is on a mission to run each other down in search of the perfect present to celebrate the birth of the baby Jesus.

So I arrived at in Home Depot about 25 minutes later. Up and down the aisles I went, only to find that they did not have the shag carpet rake. I asked one useless person after another, all who said, Oh, I just saw them over there!....only to not be able to show me where that was. Finally a guy told me, yeah, ummmm, we don't, ummm, like, ummm, have those no more. Great.

So I left Home Depot. I had to pee for the 40th time that day. I drove without purpose and finally decided to stop at Wendy's to use the bathroom, and maybe grab a snack. After using their bathroom, I realized nothing would ever sound good from Wendy's, so I left. I got back in the car, headed back to the wine tasting, called Ajay and asked him how it was going. He said they were half way through, and they were having a nice time. Excellent. I pulled into the parking lot, reclined my seat, and fell asleep until he called again an hour later.

I swing the car around and pick them up. What did you do while we were there, he asked. Oh, not much...you know...slept in the car, went pee...the usual.

Friday night date night

Today is Friday. I woke up this morning after Ajay left for work. Before the babies, I woke up with him every day, made him coffee, breakfast, packed his lunch, made sure he took his vitamins....I was a pretty good wife.

This week things have changed....I am finding that 10 hours of sleep per night is what my body needs right now. So we still go to bed at the same time, but I sleep like, 2 or 3 hours later than Ajay. It's totally freaky how much I can sleep. My little Blueberries take a lot of energy. (The babies were referred to as the size of blueberries in an article about being 7 weeks pregnant, thus the name).

Tonight we have dinner plans with some friends. I've been looking forward to this meal all week...we're heading to a great Cuban restaurant, and I've already been going back and forth on what to have for dinner, as well as what to have for dessert. Since I am now the Designated Driver, I feel that I should be able to indulge all the more in what I eat rather than the mojitos to start and the wine with dinner.

Last Friday, the little Blueberries asked to be taken to our favorite Soul Food restaurant. Although I've never ordered their Buttermilk Fried Chicken, I've heard it's fantastic, and that was what captivated my taste buds all week...I knew what I would order by Tuesday. To clarify...I've been a very healthy eater for the last decade...I read labels, I eat whole grains, I consider how fatty things are, I choose healthy fats. But now I choose buttermilk fried chicken because that's what the Blueberries asked for.

The problem is what the Blueberries want versus what my stomach has been trained to handle are two very different things. About 3 bites into my fried chicken, my stomach wanted to explode. I couldn't finish 1/4 of my meal. I was a mess. Driving home, I experienced some of the worst pain I've ever experienced from eating...I thought I might die. I must've eaten 8 antacids, and still no relief.

So tonight I have another chance to redeem myself as worthy of eating out at a nice restaurant. My hope is that the little Blueberries want something that this body can handle and digest without pain and suffering. I hope to avoid agony and embarrassment.

Project Runway: What's the Skinny

Okay, the challenge this week was to work with women who had recently lost a lot of weight. They wore their favorite outfits from their heavier days and the designers were challenged to make something new out of the old clothes. I liked that challenge...how cool would it be to reinvent all the outfits that you used to like but just can't wear another time.

Anyway, Jack has an infection on his mouth and face...he's swelling up like a balloon, and decides that he needs to take care of himself and withdraw from the contest to seek medical treatment. Bummer...I liked Jack. In a short amount of time, he's already won a challenge, and I felt like we hadn't seen his best work yet. I hope they'll let him come back next season because he really didn't get a chance to show us his stuff. Bye Jack!

And hellllllllllllllooooooooo Chris. Since the competition was down one man, they decided to bring back Chis. I liked Chris too and was glad to see him get another chance.

Several of the re-designed outfits were very good....I liked Kevin's and Christian's the best, although it pains me to say so because I am so annoyed by Christian. I mean, this week he said, "I'm way bettter than them" referring to the competition....his attitude is so DUMB.....you can't even begin to explain to him about his own lack of awareness because he's too young and stupid to get it. But to give him full credit, he rocked the competition this week. I thought his outfit was the best re-do.

I was also concerned to see Chris in the bottom again. There's no doubt that he's a likable guy and is talented...the only thing I question is can he transition from costume making to fashion design....this week's outfit really reinforced that. His outfit really did look like it was made for a 1950's movie...I agreed with Michael Kor's....all she was missing was a beret.

In the end, Steve deserved his last place defeat....his dress was awful...there was nothing stylish about it, I'm sure the woman would have donated it to the Goodwill when she got home, and the outfit did nothing to express who he is as a designer....he failed across the board. I will say that I thought he got the worst piece of clothing to transform...that wedding dress was hideous, but the judges were right...he could have deconstructed the fabric in some way and transformed the dress into a white cocktail dress or something...I just thought he was completely overwhelmed by his bad luck. It seemed like he was defeated the second his name was chosen for the wedding dress re-design.

Bye, Steve!

A good day

Today I woke up after a nice 10 hours of sleep....because any less just wouldn't get me through until my daily 1:00 p.m. nap.

I had a long list of things to get done because I've felt really crappy this week. Between the extreme exhaustion and the nausea, it's really hard to even consider taking on a task---forget about actually doing it!

Last night I was in bad shape...nothing sounded good because I was so nauseated. I had to pass on a friend's birthday party that I had really wanted to make it to. Instead, Ajay picked up some dinner and brought it home.

After I ate, I felt almost immediately better. I couldn't believe it...it was a miracle. Then I realized that I hadn't had much to eat at all throughout the day...some yogurt, an apple, some cereal...that was it.

So this morning I felt armed with new information. Even though I woke up feeling sick, I forced some real food down...and egg and a piece of toast. Before I knew it, I was feeling so much better, and was off to the doctor for some blood work. I had a list a mile long and systematically crossed off each errand with pride...

I got my replacement cell phone, then exchanged a gift at Macy's, then picked up make up that I'm out of. From there I picked up my sister's Christmas present, and even shopped for pants that fit (but had no luck). From there I bought groceries (so Ajay doesn't have to eat stale cheerios) and even picked up medication from pharmacy.

And I made it home in time to beat the lunchtime nausea! So I was able to enjoy my new favorite lunch.....

Don't worry, Maya....these are vegetarian corn dogs...

And the final good word of the day...Dr. H called and said my hormones look great based on today's blood work so I don't have to take any more shots!!!!!!!!!!!! Wooooopeeee!

Ultrasound photos: 7 weeks

Yesterday I had my 7 week ultrasound. All week I had a feeling that I should be prepared to hear that only one baby was still in there. I don't know why; maybe I felt like I was getting too attached to the idea of twins, which is what Dr. H warned me against. So all week I kept telling myself whatever she sees will be fine with me. I knew there was still at least one baby in there because of the near constant nausea.


Ajay was able to make it to the ultrasound too due to a random case cancellation. We were excited to see what had taken place over the last week, although in my mind I was preparing myself. She put the probe in and moved it all around, and all we could see was one gestational sak. She focused in on the baby, who was now 10.3 mm long...just over a centimeter. I felt a little bit of emotional deflation...think positive!!! Remember, think positive!!!! This little person doubled in size since last week and is right on track for size. Be happy.

When she was satisfied with her viewing of Baby #1, she said, okay, now let's find the other one. She probed and probed and probed...I felt like I was truly being violated by an alien of sorts, and finally before my eyes, the other gestational sac became visible....and inside the sac, there was Baby #2. She said, "there he is!!!!" to which I replied, "so he's still in there?" "Yes", she assured me. This gestational sac was really difficult to visualize because it was positioned below and behind the other sac relative to the ultrasound probe. With more severe probing she was finally able to get her measurements...this baby is 10 mm, or 1 centimeter. Both babies have cardiac signs. We're happy.

While I was there, they also checked my blood, and late in the day called to tell me I can STOP TAKING ALL MY MEDS. No more shots. No more patches. No more aching-butt pains in the middle of the night. This is phenomenal news for me...they thought I'd need the hormone supplements until the end of my first trimester, but it seems like my my body is doing just fine on it's own. I have to go back in two days to check my levels to make sure, but in the meantime I'm very happy.

Andrea's day of bad food...I'm so disgusted with myself....Part 2

As the title indicates, this is the second part of a two-part entry. Please go to Part 1. If you choose not to go to Part 1, I can't help you.

After running errands, I came back home and peeled off the last pair of jeans that "fits" and traded them for pants with spandex. I got very comfortable under my comforter and began a new book. I read one-third of the page and died. Well, maybe I didn't die, but how else do you explain not hearing the 4 phone calls that came in (with a phone right next to my head) while I was beneath the covers?

I came back to life about 2 or 3 hours later. I was hungry again and ate the leftovers from Ajay's lunch.

Ajay got home and went for a walk...I joined him around the block but didn't go the rest of the way....we used to do a nice 2 mile hill walk as many days as possible but I honestly don't have the energy for our huge Mt. Everest of a hill these days.

Ajay makes it back with a cold nose feeling nicely rejuvenated from his trek into the tundra. I ask if he's hungry. A little bit, he says. Maybe we could go to Taco Bell, I suggest. He looks at me with eyes that have met a person before, but can't really place where. You want Taco Bell, he asks? Yes please, I reply.

So we hop in the car and he asks if I know what I'm ordering. Of course I do...all I think about is food these days.

We get to the counter, where I realize that I have not had Taco Bell since my girlfriends and I used to go out drinking and would hit the drive through on the way home. The menu is still the same, except for the new thing that is a Taco wrapped in something else with a bunch of yellow cheese product dripping out the bottom of it....strangely this new food product doesn't appeal to the babies. The babies want a Mexican Pizza and two Taco Supremes, with sour cream, please.

On the way home I am happy. I have a monster size of Sierra Mist. From time to time little chirps of excitement slip out...Ajay has never seen me so happy to see fast food...in fact, now that I think about it, I don't think Ajay and I have ever had fast food together.

He tells me he's surprised I didn't order the new promotional drippy thing. I ask if he wanted to try it. He replies, "No.....you know, I have been concerned about the fact that husbands gain sympathy weight when their wives are pregnant. At this rate, I'm thinking I'll be okay...everything you crave is disgusting."

I mumble back "yeah, maybe to you but to the babies, it's delicious."

Andrea's day of bad food...I'm so disgusted with myself....Part 1

Yesterday, after my ultrasound appointment in the morning, Ajay and I had lunch together and he headed back to work, while I ran errands.

Okay, I skipped over a very important detail there....the important bit of information is not that we had lunch together, although that was a real treat for a Monday. The important bit of information is what the babies made me eat for lunch.

We went to Santa Monica Seafood. Even if you tried, I don't think you could find a healthier place for lunch....they have fresh, never frozen, no hormones added, wild caught fish in many varieties. Mainly, they sell fish for you to take home and cook yourself, but they also have a small lunch counter. Ajay orders grilled shrimp tacos. I didn't order that.

I asked what the fisherman's platter had on it...she told me fried fish, fried shrimp, and french fries. I asked if I could substitute the fried clams for the fried fish. She said no. So I ordered the fried shrimp basket with fries and coleslaw, and then another order of fried clams. and a Sprite in case my stomach decided to act up. Yes, I see the irony there. In case my stomach decided to misbehave after what I was about to do to it...

That's not the worst part...the food comes, and Ajay puts his respectable small plate of grilled tacos at his seat, and then puts a very large plate of shrimp in front of me....and since we're at a very small bistro table, we have to do a little re-arranging to fit in my extra order of clams. Everything on my side of the table is a nice golden brown color. It even smells deep fried. As Ajay is returning the tray that the food came on, we notice one of Ajay's partners at the counter placing a lunch order (fish soup....he doesn't know what's good). We say hi to Al, and as he turns to talk to us, he looks at our table and focuses on my side of it. He looks at all the fried food in front of me, and then at me, and then back to the food, and then back to me. He's got a kind of smile on his face. He sees my dirty secret. Finally he leaves.

Upon finishing every last bite, Ajay asks me to take one of his tacos home. He couldn't even finish his one little lunch order.

It's that time of year again!

Yesterday Ajay and I had a near perfect morning...it was Sunday, we slept in, went and checked out a new restaurant for brunch and then headed over to buy a Christmas tree.

Last year there was kind of a shortage of trees in these parts, so we found out when the garden center's next shipment would be and got there at 7 a.m. to meet the shipment. This year we're feeling more relaxed.

We get to the garden center and to our delight there are tons of trees. Short fat ones, tall skinny ones, tall fat ones, short skinny ones, trees with artificial snow on them...you get the idea. We gravitate to the trees sized the same as the tree we bought last year.

And we looked at the price tags.

Okay, who's got the hidden camera?

In our mind we had paid around $80 or $100 last year for our very beautiful 10 foot tree. Who knows if our minds are accurately remember the details. But this year, the comparable trees started at $189. Many of them went into the $200's. Again, I could be wrong, and maybe last year we were much less in tune with what we were spending because we hadn't yet remodeled our home or done IVF....who knows.

Feeling defeated and somewhat ripped off, I said let's just forget it. I'm too tired to put up a tree anyway. But Ajay persisted. We finally found a beautiful tree in the same range as last year's tree and brought it home, and Ajay immediately filled it with lights.

That was two days ago. I still haven't managed to do the ornaments. I've been too busy sleeping and eating!

As if I hadn't learned my lesson....

....after last night's dramatic near-death-by-gas incident (see previous entry), I realized I was hungry. I had already made the tabbouleh to go with the kofta kabob I was planning to make. I asked Ajay if that sounded good...he said "you know, I'm kind of over meat these days....".

No problem, I really didn't feel like cooking anyway.

"How about a mushroom pizza from Gina's", I suggest.

"That sounds good", he replies.

"and maybe a salad?" I ask.

"Sure", he replies.

I dial, and a nice boy from Gina's asks what he can do for me.

"I'd like to place an order for delivery...one medium mushroom pizza, and a small Caesar salad"

The nice young man on the other end asks, "will that be all?"

"ummm.....and a meatball sandwich", I say under my breath.

"excuse me?" he asks.

"A MEATBALL SANDWICH, PLEASE."

I can't believe he made me say it out loud. Again.

I ponder...who are these babies, and why are they so fixated on forcing me to eat meat?????

The order is delivered. Normally I use real plates, real forks, our nice napkins with pizza. Not this time. I go straight for the meatball sandwich and have begun eating before Ajay finishes paying the guy. At least I'm sitting at the kitchen table like a normal person trained in today's etiquette...

I eat half of the enormous sandwich by the time Ajay has, in a very civilized fashion, plated his dinner...a piece of pizza and a plate filled with salad. By the time he's sitting down, I'm done with half the sandwich and am reaching for a piece of pizza. By the time he takes his first bite, I'm half way though my first slice and reaching for another one. And I skip the salad altogether. And I am a lover of all things related to salad.

Again. Why are these babies so hungry, and how can I possibly go on eating a meatball sandwich, two pieces of pizza and 8 mini powdered donuts in one day?

Who put all this food in my shopping cart?

Yesterday I felt good. By comparison, really good! I was able to go to the grocery store and everything. What an experience. It was like going for the first time, or maybe like shopping in some one elses body.

Normally, I am a health-conscious shopper. I usually spend my time at the grocery on the outer rows...produce, dairy, and maybe a little meat and fore go all the aisle of name brand foodstuff. I buy fresh herbs, lots of produce, organic milk. I never buy anything pre-made (except for the rare Trader Joe's Gruyere and red onion pizza, but who can blame me? It's divine!), and I typically don't buy junk food. I am conscious of sugar content in food and don't buy things that are excessively sugary or contain trans fats (not saying I'm fat free...the more the Omega 3s and 6s the merrier!) If we have treats, I usually make them at home where I can control the ingredients.

That said, when I went to the store yesterday I had gone too long without eating, which brings on the nausea. Nausea and fierce hunger at the same time. Bizarre. Anyway, I started in produce and got my typical fresh Italian parsley, fresh mint, fresh dill, apples, bananas, mangoes. So far so good.

Then I found my cart being pulled....like being sucked into a black hole of sorts into an aisle I'd never been in before....processed fruit. Look at all the little single servings of peaches! In their own juice!!! Their size is un-intimidating for a nauseous girl. And only 16g of sugar per serving! And look! Single servings of mandarin oranges! And only 18g of sugar per serving! Which should I get? How about both!

I continue on going down these previously forbidden rows of name brand foodstuff. Fruity Pebbles? I looooove Fruity Pebbles! And look! Ramen noodles...the one food product that I survived on in college....what could be better to this belching and apologizing girl than noodles in a faux broth made of salt and dirt? Delicious! I go on to the meat section. For the first time .....ever? I buy ground beef. Yep....ground beef....as in, hardly any quality control in the processing....as in multiple cow's multiple body parts squeezed nicely in that little pound of ground flesh. I can't wait to get home and make a nice middle eastern feast of tabouleh and kofta kabob. Yum.

I head to the checkout. What is this I see? A bakery bin of buttered croissants. I have an unspoken rule about buttered croissants...they are only worth the sin in Paris. And they are never as good as they are in Paris, so why set yourself up for the let down. So I grab one, planning to eat it on the way home. As I turn to the checkout line, I spot a box of "Mini Powdered Donuts". Mmmmmmm, donuts. I haven't had a donut in at least 4 or 5 years. I forgot about donuts. I love donuts. I think I'll take some home with me. Done.

As I thought, the croissant didn't make it home. It wasn't that good but it did make the reflux go back down. I unloaded my grocery bags on my kitchen island and was horrified. Normally, I stare with pride at my cart at the checkout lane....cashiers usually even comment about the healthiness of my food selection....mentioning I must be a great cook. But today....well today is another story. It's as if a teenager with a big checkbook went to the store. After taking everything out of it's bag, I can't believe my eyes. The fresh produce is dominated by food made of nylon and Red #5. Horrified, I pick up the donuts, and head for the couch.

Eight mini-donuts later, I fall into a slumber that might compete with a bear's hibernation. Two hours later I wake up to the phone ringing...it appears that 3 other calls came in while I was sleeping...I didn't hear a thing. Ajay gets home shortly after and notices a look of fear on my face. He asks what's wrong, while eyeing the near empty box of donuts. I say I have really bad abdominal pain...he says OH NO!!! I say, I don't think it's that...I think it's intestinal.

About then, another HUGE cramp comes...so big that it knocks the wind out of me....I actually have to sit on the floor where I was standing. Ajay tells me he's saw this kind of gas pain in his ER rotation, and that I should turn over with my elbows and forearms on the floor, butt in the air to help the gas pass. This is so sexy I can't believe it. My husband coaching me how to.....well, you know.

This is what I get. I have learned from my huge embarrassment that donuts are not worth it, and if one does buy donuts, one must resist eating 8 at a time.

What's going on in there, anyway?

Today I'm feeling better than yesterday...the nausea wasn't too bad when I woke up so I was able to get a few things done that I meant to do yesterday.

Today I feel better mentally too. I hate feeling like a slacker, which is exactly how I felt all day yesterday. One more day down, only 282 to go!

This morning I signed up for weekly emails from Babycenter.com and ivillage.com to keep me up to date on the fetal development of the babies. Considering I am reading Your Pregnancy: Week by Week, I'm now getting the same information delivered three ways each week. I think I'm hoping that between the three, maybe one will provide information that the other doesn't, but it's basically all the same. But why only weekly updates? I'm thinking daily updates would be much better...In fact...I wish I had a window on my belly. With a shade to keep it dark when they're sleeping.

This week's major developments are the nose, mouth, and ears are beginning to take shape. If I did have the window into my uterus, this is what I'd see:


The babies have an oversize head and dark spots where their eyes and nostrils are starting to form. Ears are marked by small depressions on the sides of the head, and arms and legs by protruding buds. their heart is beating about 100 to 160 times a minute and blood is beginning to course through his body. Their intestines are developing, and the bud of tissue that will give rise to their lungs has appeared. Their pituitary gland is forming, as are the rest of their brain, muscles, and bones. Right now, my babies are a quarter of an inch long, about the size of a lentil bean.

This seems like a lot of reading and research for a girl who is trying to stay neutral until the 12th week, doesn't it?

Saltines and 7 Up

Just when I thought my healthy breakfasts were here to stay I woke up feeling awful this morning...I didn't get out of bed until 7:30, which is really late for me, and the only reason I got up then was that I'm expecting them to install the new cabinets that go beneath the TV this morning.

Getting dressed, I just couldn't get it right. My black terry cloth Juicy pants are clean, so that was a good starting point, but then I layered a longish tank top under a long sleeve t-shirt and Bluugh...too hot. I tried a couple of short sleeve t-shirts instead. Too little in the belly and frankly disgusting looking. I settled on a rather loose trapeze type top...at least it's comfortable. But the bra? Not so good. Too little and my sports bras are in the wash. So underneath I'm crammed into a too little bra, but I covered it by wearing a tent shirt. Good enough.

I think about some toast...and gag. I think about a cup of tea....and gag. All I can think of that doesn't make me gag is saltines and 7 up. Yep, delicious and nutritious for the babies and me. This hasn't been the best morning (burrrp). I'm hoping this is as bad as it gets.

Then after thinking about it some more, if it gets worse, that's okay, too. It's not the worst thing in the world to have morning sickness. Just 5 weeks ago when I had In Vitro, I would have given my arm to make it work....so a little (buurrrrp) morning sickness? Not so bad!

Okay, who took over my body?

The old me: Coffee, make is strong and keep it coming.
The new me: Tea, half a cup should do it.

The old me: I've never met a glass of wine I didn't like...I just like some more than others
The new me: Beck's non-alcoholic beer in a party environment...otherwise water, please.

The old me: Hold the butter
The new me: Extra butter, please

The old me: No mayo
The new me: How good is mayo? Yes please!

The old me: No to breakfast, yes to coffee
The new me: Yes to breakfast, no to coffee

The old me: Diet coke, and yes I'd like a refill
The new me: Water please, or if I'm nauseated, sprite or organic soda

The old me: whole wheat
The new me: white bread (yes, I get that this doesn't make sense, since the general trend is healthier choices...except for the new love of butter and mayo! But there is something so nicely simple about toast made of white bread)

The old me: Up! Shower! Go!
The new me: PJ's until 11!

The old me: Daily leg-shaving
The new me: That takes too much energy...poor Ajay

The old me: Finish the bottle of wine within a day, or maximum 2.
The new me: I wonder if this wine is still good enough to cook with...Ajay opened it last week.

The old me: No naps. I won't sleep at night.
The new me: Nap whenever and sleep like a rock for 10 hours.

The old me: Pretty darn independent
The new me: Worries about Ajay's drive to work and considers asking him not to talk on the phone and drive at the same time. Later comes to senses, but still.....

WHO AM I???????????

Just because this is sooo cute

Okay, first I have to preface this blog entry with a notation that I am NOT this person...I do not post cute things for the sake of cuteness. Yes, I am a bona fide animal lover, but I do not normally feel the need to share cute things. In fact, when I receive that irresistible cutesy cartoon image of round kittens basking in sunlight with bluebirds circling their heads with positive affirmations written below, I typically curse the person that sent it to me. I know. It's mean.

However, according to a few books I've been reading, with pregnancy comes a certain maternal tie to all things cute and sweet. So here I am, breaking all my own rules, and offering up a very cute thing that was passed to me this morning.... and what can I say...I love this. My sister sent it to me and I watched it over and over...turn up your sound so you can hear the sweet story attached to this hug....(while proofing this paragraph, I rolled my eyes at myself...I even became a little nauseous....or is that just a constant state these days?) Who am I and what happened to my old jaded self????? Enjoy this hug???? OMFG! I want to kick my own ass! So without further ado...here is cuteness and sweetness personified....courtesy of my sister, who now wants a baby lion so it can grow up and give her hugs. (Push the arrow to play the video)






Subject: Read First then view the Video

READ THIS BEFORE WATCHING THE VIDEO:THIS WOMAN IN THE VIDEO FOUND THIS LION INJURED IN THE FOREST READY TO DIE.SHE TOOK THE LION WITH HER AND NURSED THE LION BACK TO HEALTH. WHEN THE LION WAS BETTER SHE MADE ARRANGEMENTS WITH A ZOO TO TAKE THE LION AND GIVE IT A NEW AND HAPPY HOME.THIS VIDEO WAS TAKEN WHEN THE WOMAN AFTER SOME TIME WENT TO GO VISIT THE LION TO SEE HOW HE WAS DOING.WATCH THE LION'S REACTION WHEN HE SEES HER. AMAZING!!!!!

Too tired to care

Last night Ajay had to work...he was on overnight Labor and Delivery doing epidurals and C-Sections, which means he was working with obstetricians all night.


During the course of delivering a baby, he and a couple of the OBs were talking about where we are in the process...6 weeks pregnant, looks like twins, saw two heartbeats, etc. The OBs Ajay was working with told him it was great that we saw two heartbeats, and since we did, it's was 90% likely that the two would survive...meaning only a 10% chance of a vanishing twin. That's pretty good odds, right? Considering I only had a 20% chance of twins, I'll take 90% any day! Okay, wait a minute...what I just said...that makes me think...we had an 80% chance of not getting twins, but we did. So that means even though there's a 90% chance of survival, there's a 10% chance of not survival. Hmmmm, I never thought of it that way until just now.

Ajay went on to tell the obstetricians that I'm doing my part too...I'm really taking it easy, listening to my body, taking naps as needed, etc. At that point, both O.B.s looked at each other and smiled. (What!?....what does that mean, you may ask?) Well, they go on to tell Ajay that OBs tell all their newly expecting Moms to take it easy and eat right just to give them something to do/focus on. The odds are that these new Mom-to-be's will be so tired that they can't help but napping, so by giving them permission to, it makes them happy, and even gives them feelings of accomplishing something for the baby.

Hmmmm, now that I know this, what do I do with it? Continue with my 2 hours of napping every day? Or prove them wrong? Wait a minute...who was that? Was that the old Andrea that pushes herself to exhaustion every day for no obvious reason? The new Andrea yawns, posts this blog and goes off for a nap.

Second ultrasound at 6 weeks

Today Ajay and I went for the second ultrasound...I was really glad that he could be there and share in the excitement.

I've become an expert at stripping from the waist down and now am very good at picking my outfits on ultrasound day accordingly...it is always a good idea to wear a longer shirt or even a dress so you can kind of cover your butt...they give you a paper cover to put on your lap, but since the ultrasound table is positioned away from the door, anyone who opens the door will see your butt if you don't have a long enough shirt on. Sorry, I digressed.

Anyway, we're escorted to the room, the clothes fly off and Dr. H whirls into the room, lubes up the ultrasound transducer, and mentions she's really excited to see what's going on in there. That makes three of us! She gets the ultrasound in place, and in a matter of a second or less, she says, "there's the heartbeat"....and points to an teeny tiny little movement within the larger black dot on the right side.

On the right-side black spot you may be able to see two little white markers that Dr. H placed on the image...that is the length of the actual embryo. The whole black spot is the gestational sac, or yolk that will nourish the little guys while they grow.

She went on to say "hmmm, and what's going on over here? I'm not seeing a heartbeat in the second one...let's check out what's going on over there. Let's try to make sure we don't have a vanishing twin on our hands. Within another 2.5 seconds, Dr. H says "oh, there it is...it's hiding! see? It's right there!" All I have to say is that lady has some serious skills when it comes to ultrasound imaging! Do I see it? No. Even when she puts her free finger on the screen? ....well, sort of...if you say so...oh YES! I DO see it! So there are indeed two little bitty heartbeats. Dr. H goes on to measure my little bitty beans...one is 5mm and one looks about 4 mm. It's normal for twins to play catch up with each other.

This is the 2nd smaller little person on the left in white markers. This one measures 4 mm.

Now comes my famous disclaimer part...actually, I'm now looking at it a little differently...If I'm sharing my information with my cyber friends, you deserve to know what I know so thus, I'm going to tell you all the good, bad and ugly.

Dr. H goes on to say that it's still too early to really guarantee that both will thrive. I'm guessing that since the 2nd heartbeat was harder to find, she's more concerned with this little guy. She goes on to say that it could be the way the embryos are positioned..it could be a lot of things. But the good news is that she can now say with confidence that this is our last Christmas solo...next year will be a whole new Christmas because there will be at least one baby in the house.

Did you get that? It's time to think that this is real. It's really happening! We're going to have a baby! On July 29th! Just shy of Ajay's 40th birthday. We're going to have another Leo or two in the house! I'm going to be surrounded by Leos!

I am officially 6 weeks along today, making the fetal age 4 weeks.

On the way home, I marvelled at how much I respect Dr. H's style. Last week she warned me of the potential of losing a twin, and this week, she subtly but clinically reminded me again. She brought up the potential for one of the twins vanishing today as if to remind me "hey, we're not there yet. The thing I told you last week about not getting too attached to the idea of twins until 12 weeks? It still stands. It's still early...get it?" If she had said something more dramatic or even more emotionally invested, I would have felt like there was reason to panic. She is a good match for me.

Let the holiday parties begin

Last night, Ajay and I went to a work-related holiday party. I wasn't panicking about what to wear because just a couple of weeks ago I bought a basic black dress that I knew fit well and looked great. No sweat.

Except, um, between then and now, my whole shape has changed. My once rather voluptuous back side has taken on a new squarish shape...and it's really voluptuous now. And those boobs? Who's are those? Certainly not mine. It seriously looks like I got a boob job. And finally, that big belly (which my sister and I call a bing bong on boys)...it's not a cute little baby bump...it's a lumpy and not perfectly round and fatty display of "what in the hell happened?" It seriously looks like a guy's beer belly after 4 or 5 years of living in a fraternity.

I pulled out every pair of tights I own....I need spandex, and the greater concentration of spandex the better. I settle on some gray tights and pull them all the way up...you know, practically to my bra. We're getting there. Maybe that pair of Spanx that I bought for the really slinky dress could go on top of the tights. Yep, perfect. Here we are...all snug as a bug in my "no sweat" black dress of 3 weeks ago.

Ajay looks dashing as always in a suit. I look lovely too, if I do say so myself. We get in the car and the unexpected happens. Ajay looks at me and laughs out loud. "OH MY GOD!!!!! What WAS that?" My response is obviously we ran over a dead animal. Except we're still in the garage.

Apparently pregnant girls are not supposed to smoosh their internal organs with spandex in the name of fitting into a black dress...apparently we're supposed to wear some sort of smock. Now I know.

To my relief, this morning I read in the The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy that this is totally normal. Apparently, if you're not suffering from morning sickness, your suffering from noxious gas, and if you're not suffering from either of those, you'll suffer from belching and/or reflux. You know how they talk about men finding their wives sooooo sexy when they're pregnant? I'm thinking that's not going to apply here.

Bluuuuuuugh!

This morning I woke up to the sound of rain. Normally that is a wonderful sound...we are always bordering on desperation for rain here in Southern California. Our house has a lot of skylights, and normally I LOVE the way rain sounds when it comes down.



So peaceful, so restful, such a wonderful sound.....rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrip (that's the sound of a needle skidding across a record) STOP EVERYTHING! Crap!!! We still hadn't ordered the tarp to cover our new outdoor furniture!!! It's out there getting pounded by rain.


I jump up and pull on my Uggs....bending over I feel something trying to come up from my stomach. Bluuuugh. I feel yucky. I open the door to see how much rain has come down. A lot...and it's still coming down. Ajay is also aware that we (meaning "I") didn't get around to having a tarp made to protect the furniture. I hate it when he's aware of one of things that I didn't get done...I know it sounds silly but I hate to feel like I didn't do my job...to be fair, he does do a really good "I'm disappointed, not mad"....which I'm sure will haunt our adult children 30 years from now. Anyway, after the rain slows to a sprinkle, I run out and start drying off the table...mind you it's 6 a.m. I must look like an obsessive compulsive nutjob! Realize that with every wipe of the table, I am dry heaving and hoping I don't barf on it too. To my utter delight, the water has beaded up perfectly and has not penetrated the table....just like they promised. No damage. Wonderful! I find some big sheets of plastic that we saved from when our couch was delivered and do my best to cover the newly dried table. And then I run inside to try to barf in the sink. Nothin'. Once again, just Bluuuuugh feeling.

Project Runway: Contestants Taken Out of the Comfort Zone

This week, during the opening segment, Christian, my favorite person to hate, mentions "I just make clothes so much better than the other designers". This after sucking so fiercely with the $15 challenge last week....clearly he's learned a lot of humility between last week and this week. And why shouldn't he be so much better than all the others...he's 21 after all and has a world of experience that he brings to the table...for one, he can sew fast. Forget that his designs have been less than consistent a this point. I HATE HIM.

Now we enter into the challenge....they announce that this week's challenge is to make an outfit for Tiki Barber, a former linebacker and current Today Show whatever you call it....correspondent? He's on the show. He needs an outfit. Design it. Keep in mind this former football player has a good sense of fashion and he has a big booty, a big muscular neck, broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Okay, aside from the muscular neck, I can relate to wanting to somewhat disguise or play down a booty.

They're given $150 to design an outfit. Why are they all freaking out? No one except the one guy has ever done men's clothing apparently.

Here's where I'm a little irritated. Jack takes off his shorts, deconstructs them, and uses them as a pattern. Alright...initially, I'm okay with this...he's being resourceful. And he's a nice guy. Victoria and Carmen ask to borrow his deconstructed shorts to make their pants out of this pattern, too. Jack does them this favor. Hmmmm. I don't know how I feel about this...are they taking advantage of his generosity, or is it just me? And what kind of competition would this be if everyone just created a pattern out of what they were already wearing? Or better yet, they could all trace the same thing and everyone could make the same outfit!

This week, I liked Kit. I liked that she seems pretty mature and insightful...at one point she said something like, here we are so stressed out and we forget that we're actually living our dream right now...pretty bright and a pretty good perspective...especially being only 26.

Oh, and I still like Rami..I liked his smart ass remark that his pants looked great and he didn't use a pattern at all. He has a point. Back to Jack...I wonder...is he simply a nice guy who helped others in need, or is this part of his strategy to build alliances and be able to call in favors later....hmmm.

Ricki...I changed my mind...I feel that I've given him a fair enough of time and I do not like him. He's too stressed out all the time. That fellow needs some self esteem or something...he puts the pressure of the world on his shoulders every week and it makes me stressed out to watch his struggle every week.

Then comes special guest Ginny Barker, Kiki's wife. Okay, this lady takes what her husband wears very very seriously...she looks at everything with an extremely critical eye. I loved that she called who was it...Carmen's? jacket a Member's Only remake.

In the end, Jack won. I thought his outfit looked great, but there is still the fact that he traced the pants off his body to "create" his pants.

And Carmen goes home...that's okay...I didn't think too highly of her, especially after saving so much time by tracing Jack's pants, and then completely screwing up her jacket and not finishing the shirt. Bye bye Carmen!

Dressing the part or masking reality?

I've written before about my problems with my clothes. (Yes, this is definitely a middle class problem). Before my pregnancy test a week ago, I was bloated from the fertility drugs...when I weighed in at the surgery center before they harvested my little eggs, I had gained 15 pounds since the beginning of this process. Now that I'm very newly pregnant, I've noticed that the swelling hasn't gone down. During my first pregnancy ultrasound, Dr. H shows me why....my uterine lining is thick and lush and my huge ovaries are working very hard in there so no wonder I feel like my belly is already huge...it is! So here is my neurotic dilemma....What kind of pants do I buy?

I suppose the bigger and more to the point questions is am I pregnant pregnant? As in, is this one going to stick? Are these two going to stick? Since I've lost pregnancies before, I don't want to rush out and buy maternity pants.

Would buying clothes made for pregnant girls somehow jinx my pregnancy?

If (baby Jesus forbid) I lose this pregnancy, I don't want a reminder in my closet. I don't want to jump the gun and then be left with all my big-bellied pants and nice loose shirts. In the meantime, what do I wear? The same Juicy track suit that I've been wearing every day? Even I'm getting sick of that! So I wait, and find clothes in my closet that hurt the least.

Writing about pants seems really superficial as I sit here proofing what I've written...however, I think we all know that the pants are just a an indicator of my fear. Fear to be happy, fear to actually believe that my two and a half year marathon of infertility treatments is behind me. I'm afraid of believing the good news.

And why wouldn't I be? For the last week I've been so happy. Having the glimmer of hope that "so far so good" is about me this time. But everyone I foolishly tell about the pregnancy is also told "it's early...really early...we need to wait until at least 10-12 weeks to feel good about the twins being out of the woods. So we can't get too attached yet." We. As if they're the ones I'm protecting with that statement. If I could wrap myself in bubble wrap to better protect myself and the teeny tiny little embryos that are dividing away, I'd do it. But unfortunately in infertility, we don't have control over very much at all, and that lack of control doesn't end with achieving pregnancy. In fact, in my experience, that's where frustration turns to fear.

I read other girl's infertility blogs, and there are common threads throughout them...frustration, anger, confusion, self-pity, jealousy, helplessness, emptiness, yearning, and bitterness. I can easily identify all those feelings because I've felt them. I've rejected them at times, and wallowed in them at other times. But now that the infertility part is over for me and the pregnancy part has begun, am I alone in my fear? Is it normal to be so afraid of the ultimate accomplishment being within sight? Am I afraid to be happy because it's completely out of my control?

This fear of happiness is in a closet in the back of my head...for the most part I'm walking on air. The only other time I can think that I've had this feeling of walking on air is the day Ajay proposed...we went walking around shopping in Los Angeles. I took a few steps, looked at my sparkly ring, looked at Ajay, took a few steps, looked at my sparkly ring, looked at Ajay, took a few steps....but the difference is that I didn't fear anything. Maybe that's because at that point I'd never lost anything, I'd never failed at anything, and I didn't know that it was possible to try really really hard at something and not get results.

So here I am at the original question....what am I supposed to wear? Any clothes I wear seem to be a statement of my mind frame...buy the pregnancy pants, and buy into being pregnant. Stuff myself into something in my closet that's the least painful, and avoid as much future pain as possible by reserving my optimism.

And I thought it was hard to figure out what to wear before attaching all this crap to my clothes!!!

Second Class Citizen

Ajay: Are you cold, LaLa?

Me: (standing in front of the fireplace, turning it on) Not really.

Ajay: If you're not cold, why......?

Me: Pooh wants it on

(Pooh's favorite pastime is to lay on her back and bake her belly in front of the fire)

Ajay: Pooh wants it on? (Shaking his head)

Me: What? Pooh can't have the fire on if she wants it on?

Ajay: No.

Me: Why not?

Ajay: Because Pooh is a cat.

Harnessed optimism

Today I'm wearing my uniform...the drawstring black terry track suit. It was either that or the jeans that hurt or the other pants that hurt. I could have gotten creative and tried on tights and a skirt, but that just seemed like too much work. I have one pair of pants that fit. And they are terry cloth. This is pathetic.


I've known about my two dark spots on the ultrasound for a few days now. Twins. I had an idea that it might be twins from my blood test...my first beta was 437 (it's my understanding that 100 is average). Two days later, it was over 1000.

It seems really unreal at this point. I'm trying to temper my optimism with the reality that it may not work out for one or the other or either.

Stop it stop it stop it! Everything is fine. Relax. exhale. Wait a minute...what is that lower back pain? Is it a sign? I experienced lower back pain before a miscarriage. No, it's not the same. Why does my back hurt, then?

Hmmmm, maybe it's because this typically active girl has completely indulged in the doctor prescribed "take it easy". (Notice that I cannot simply take it easy on my own...I have to qualify my relaxation by reminding everyone that if the Dr. H hadn't told me to take it easy, I would be the busiest girl on the block. It's true!) There would be no stopping me from trying to exercise away the flab that I see developing every day...except for my list of "Now that your pregnant" list of no-no's, I'd probably be doing all sorts of things that are completely unnecessary!

Ouch

I woke up this morning and my butt was aching. Both sides are bruised from all the progesterone oil shots...no wonder it's sore just lying there.

As I awakened from my happy dreamy fog, I felt something else.....something that felt like Bluuuuugh! That's it...that's how I felt. I got up and went in the bathroom and asked happy perky Ajay if I had in fact actually turned green in my sleep. He told me I looked fine, but if I was feeling nauseous, it was a really good sign. I wish I could be a little happier to greet this really good sign.

I was actually convinced that I wouldn't have morning sickness (which by the way, I technically still haven't had....nothing has come up....I just feel....well....Bluuuuugh!). See, I read a paragraph in one of my many books about pregnancy and found that in in a recent study, women who had a diet higher in saturated fats the year before pregnancy are more likely to have more severe morning sickness. Since we hardly ever eat red meats or foods high in animal fats, I thought this meant that I was home free.

Not so much.

Just leave it unlocked....

The phone rings.

It's Dave, my contractor. We have some details that need to be finished in the new room addition...the floor outlets need finishing, as well as the exterior lights need to be installed.

Dave: Hey, are you going to be around for a while?

me: yeah, for about a half an hour, why?

Dave: The guys at Bob's Electric can make it by today to finish up.

me: I was planning to head out in a while.

Dave: Just leave the side door unlocked so they can come in and knock it out.

Pause.

Pause.

Pause.

Okay, let's see....leave the door unlocked so 2 electricians can come on in and finish their work. The same electricians as before? No, new guys that I don't know. But I should just let them have full access to my house. While I'm gone. The last two electricians were tatted up ex-con looking guys. So I'll definitely do that....yeah, and while I'm at it I'll leave my check book out and ask them if they wouldn't mind writing out their own check.

Silly Dave.

ding dong...who's there?

I open the door and see a FedEx box at my feet. Great! My drugs made it in time for tonight's injection. Just one little 1cc injection of progesterone oil per night these days. Oh, and great....they put the Vivelle estrogen patch in there too. Change the patch every two days at bed time, take a shot every night at bedtime, take a baby aspirin every night at bed time. Wake up and take that silly thyroid pill that I never needed before (but thank God they've slowed my thyroid down because now I can grow my ass even bigger, thanks to no metabolism!!!!). And today's drugs are only $333.05. What a relief. Last time they were over $2,000, so $300? might as well be pennies.
But in comparison, I don't have to have the Lupron injections anymore, or the Heparin injections, or the Follistim injections, or the Repronex injections....so this is smoooooth sailing, if you ask me.
And did I mention? As of right now, there are still two little bitty babies in there. So who cares about all that stuff!

Project Runway: Money Changes Everything

This week I thought I'd begin posting Sonia and my discussion about Project Runway rather than emailing, etc. So if you're a reader (that isn't Sonia) and you don't watch Project Runway, you have a couple of options. You can skip today's blog, or you can join us every Wednesday night at 10 p.m. (or in my case, whenever you wake up on Thursday morning and watch what Tivo got for you without commercials) Did I mention how much I love Tivo? This is not a paid product placement, I promise.

So this week began with the design contestants picking their models. As an industry outsider, I was perplexed about why all the drama about sending a model home---I mean, it's a show about designers. Not about models. On this show (unlike America's Next Top Model) the models are the background of the show...they are responsible for modeling the designers' clothes. It's not about them. So needless to say, being new to the show, I couldn't figure out why eliminating a model (since last week's first designer elimination) was such a big deal. Oh yeah! Heidi Klum is an executive producer. Nothing against Heidi. But can't you just see her in some board room making the argument that the models ARE important and there wouldn't be a show without them, and the best model is the last one standing at the end of the show so it deserves some air time and a part in the show? Sorry Heidi. I get that you need to make your former career important, but this isn't America's Next Top Model. You don't see the models on ANTM eliminating designers so dramatically. It just doesn't work for me.

Moving on. Sarah Jessica Parker was this week's fashion icon. Chris a.k.a. Nathan Lane immediately cries at the sight of her...you see, he has some personal connection to SJP that the rest of the group does not...he watched her on Sex and the City. I guess that means my friends and I are all especially close to SJP too. Yeah, whatever crybaby. Ricki starts to cry too. Okay, last week I thought I might like Ricki, being from humble upbringing, etc., but this week I'm frankly annoyed that everyone is such a big baby. Stop crying. SJP was cute, nice, bubbly and I think showed a good sense of fashion although her outfit was more suited for Carrie Bradshaw than the now forty-something.

The competition was to create a $40 outfit for her new affordable line, Bitten, which is available nation wide at some store I'd never heard of. I thought the challenge itself was a good one; it was interesting to see what was possible with such a low budget.

The designers are asked to sketch up something in 5 minutes. Ricki starts crying again. Palease! Stop the crying!

So I'm not surprised when SJP chooses Mariam, Ricki, Victoria, Rami, Kit, Christian, and Alisa to move forward with their designs. From here they get to choose their teammate from the designers who weren't chosen. Awkward!!! Flashbacks of grade school gym class are fogging my vision at this point. Poor Sweet P ends up with Alisa. That girl drives me crazy, but I gotta say they teamed up well. Alisa's vision came to life under Sweet P's sewing skills and understanding of how clothes and fabric works. Alisa would be lucky to get to team up every week---without another true designer with sewing skills, I don't think many of her outfits will work.

Okay flash forward...at the end of the show....there are several left on stage that were good and several that weren't so good. The judges got down to the two worst teams and asked "who do you think should go home on your team". Carmen cries and blubbers, You're asking me to choose? Don't make me choose. Waaaaaaaaaah. Please. Stop. Crying. Christian is the most annoying guy on the planet if you ask me, but he does the right thing and claims responsibility for being the designer and doesn't throw Carmen under the bus. One point for him.

Victoria won the challenge, and I thought she deserved to. Her outfit was a cut above the rest and looked expensive. Job well done.

In the end, Mariam, Mr. No Personality is eliminated. He just didn't have a thing to offer. He looked like a normal every day guy who decided to try out fashion as something to do...but he was really really plain looking but dressed up in funky poorly selected clothes. As if he knew he didn't really belong in fashion school, but was going to play the part. Tune in next time!

Shhhhh...don't tell anybody.

Today's visit with Dr. H went well. Ultrasound only...no blood. Thank God. I didn't put the topical lidocaine (Emla) on my arms before going in. I've become so adverse to needles that I can't imagine getting blood draws or shots without it. It's usually used on kids in hospitals to numb them up before getting shots or an IV, and this kid swears by it.

Dr. H was especially happy and bouncy today as always. She came into the room and grabbed the ultrasound probe and went to town looking for dark dots surrounded by a fuzzy grayish circle. We found two. As in twins. Not triplets. Not quads. Twins. Beautiful. I was so happy and relieved.

Here is the first.....




and the second....


Here is the disclaimer part. Dr. H warned me not to get too attached to the idea of twins. She said there is a 30% chance that one twin won't make it. Of course, this "the glass is half full" girl replied, "but that's a 70% chance of it making it, right?" which was definitely missing her point of not getting so attached. She went on to say that she had a patient that lost a twin last week and now rather than being happy about her pregnancy she is sad. Don't count your chickens before they hatch would be a great metaphor here, wouldn't you say? She also said everything in there is really small at this point, so we'll be better able to see everything at the ultrasound next week. We can be pretty sure of the viability at about 10-12 weeks so in the meantime I may want to keep it to myself (hmmmm, I've heard of this, but I'm not sure what it means....Don't tell anyone....Nope. Drawing a blank here. No clue what that means.) In the meantime, she said my blood supply looked terrific, and everything looked extremely healthy in there. Then she said "and I'll answer the next question before you ask it. Yes. Another one could "pop up" between now and next week." So still a slight tiny possibility of triplets.

Triplets. My only concern about this possibility is that I only have two arms, two hands, and one of me. Ajay works a lot and triplets would pretty much require that I get some help, meaning a part time or full time nanny. Which would be expensive but very necessary if I ever want to get more than 8 minutes of sleep at a time for the next 3 years. But like we discussed, we'd ultimately be fine with that too. But I was relieved with the two black dots at this point.

The latest

Today is Sunday. We've had a houseful of his side of our family over the Thanksgiving holiday and it's been fantastic. Last Tuesday after I peed on the wrong stick-the ovulation test-I reprimanded myself mentally---I need to be patient. I need to do the test when Ajay is home. I need to not do a test at all---my pregnancy test at the Dr.'s is tomorrow. I can wait that long.

Within about 7 minutes of going back and forth, I decided to pee on the right stick. After all, I had a two pack of EPT tests just waiting for me...why should they go to waste? And I'd be going to the doctor on the following day for the real test...this would be only be a slightly less accurate preview of the test to come.

I pee on the stick....the right stick this time.

FYI...the early home pregnancy tests are not extremely accurate if you test too early...They can produce false negatives because hormone levels haven't had time to develop highly enough to register a positive result...therefore a blood test is a much better test in the early stages. However, a positive is a positive is a positive. If it registers the pregnancy hormones, you're prego.

Before my eyes, I see the positive "+" sign developing. Vaguely, but recognizably so. It's positive. But light. I stare at the test. It stares back in all it's positive beauty.

I immediately page Ajay at work. He sounds frazzled. "Guess what?" I say. "What?" He responds. "I took a home pregnancy test and it was positive. Even being so early, it's positive." He responds with "WOW, that's great. That's fantastic." Knowing me and my roller coaster of emotions wanting to protect me from myself, he gently reminds me that "it's early....really early, and while the news is the best we've had in two and a half years, let's try to keep it in perspective." I've already thought the same thoughts and told him that my new mantra is "so far so good".

The day following the home pregnancy test, I'm scheduled to go in for my real pregnancy test at 10 a.m. Being the early bird that I am, I decide to do another home test around 6 a.m....I just can't wait longer than that and my neurosis of getting a darker positive outcome on the little stick has overcome me. I pee on the test. It's positive. A darker positive this time. I feel much more comfortable with these results.

At the doctor's office, I show all the girls in the office my home test and admit to being a big fat cheater. They say I'm not the only one. They draw my blood and send me home to wait for the results of the blood test, as well as the "Now that you're pregnant" sheet of guidelines. Wooopeee! I'm the girl with the "Now that you're pregnant" guidelines in my purse! I'm the one going home knowing the IVF worked. I get to be the one with a baby in there! Think about the whole new shopping arena this opens! Babies babies babies!

STOP!!!! so far so good, so far so good, so far so good. Think it. Say it. Slow down. so far so good. No roller coaster. so far so good.

More waiting

I spent the early morning reading a few other blogs of women going through the same thing as me. They reminded me of my long journey...Wow, a lot of time has gone by trying to have kids.

Two and a half years of trying on our own, trying under Dr.'s care, trying the natural way, not trying the natural way, hoping it will just happen for us magically with that bottle of wine that everyone seemed to think would be the solution...you know, "the relax, don't think about it, have a bottle and have some fun together". We went on vacation together, we just relaxed. We enjoyed our time together. We tried no-tech, low-tech, medium tech, and now we're at the high-tech stage. While I want to be optimistic, I have to reserve my feelings out of self preservation.

While Ajay and I have patiently and not so patiently (okay, and sometimes completely not patiently) waited our turn, babies have sprung up everywhere around me. I am always always always happy for whomever gets the good news, but I'd be lying if I said that the "when will it be my turn" question has never entered my head. I try to keep it all in perspective as much as possible. I try to wait my turn. But the unfairness sometimes stares right back at me. It's the most frustrating thing I think I've ever endured because there is very little of this process that is truly in my control. Sure you can consult the best doctors, and sure you get to choose how aggressive you are willing to be with the treatment, but at the end of the day, it's not like studying for a test and getting the well-deserved "A". It's like studying for the test, preparing yourself in every way possible, and then getting an "F" for no reason. And in my case, I got a few "A's" that were reversed to "F's"; that was the worst!

Along the way I've played head games with myself to keep on going. I just won't think about it at all. Okay. There. Not thinking about it. Okay, doesn't that mean I'm thinking about it if I'm trying not to? Just stay on course. Keep going after the goal. The hardest part for me was coping with the combinations of drugs that drove me to a very potent short-term depression. During that time I questioned a lot of aspects of this process as well as my ability to get through it.

In my most hopeless state, I started questioning hope as a concept. Hope.........what's so good about it. Why does everyone always say don't ever lose your hope. Keep on hoping. Keep positive. At my lowest, I began questioning if never losing hope was equal to never learning to adjust to the new reality that we won't get to have kids. I felt like hope might just be another word for denial. Like the poor girl that doesn't see the reality that is so obvious to everyone else. At the same time, I felt like if I gave up hope, I'd be committing a cardinal sin. Like I would somehow be judged as weak by myself and others. During that time, I honestly felt like no one would really understand not being strong enough to get through this process.

And just like the single girl that hears "be patient, he's out there, you'll find Mr. Right", the advice other people gave me left me feeling blank. When I received the "be patient, it'll happen" I understood that people meant well and frankly didn't know what else to say, but in my head, I felt like, "oh yes? And how do you know this? Because I think it's time for all of us to come to terms with the other potential reality that it might not happen." I know...angry and bitter. Not good.

So here we are waiting again. With HOPE. With PATIENCE. With POSITIVE FEELINGS. Aren't I a good girl? See? I'm doing it right. That must mean it'll happen this month.

Serves me right

I have to pee.

I know, I'll just pee on a pregnancy test stick. Just to get an idea. If it's positive, it's still really really early so I won't get too excited. And if it's negative, well, it's really early and the tests aren't as accurate early on because it takes a bit for your body to ramp up those pregnancy hormones.

No, I'll wait for Ajay. That's the thing to do. When he gets home I'll ask him if I should follow my whim and take a test before the doctor's test. You know, nothing serious...just to see.

But the box that has the pregnancy test is right here....next to the toilet. I could just pee on it right now, see what it says, and then maybe do another one tonight so we can both be "surprised" together. Yeah. Okay. I'll go ahead.

No, that's not fair.

But I want to know.

What the hell. I pee on the stick. Images of the nutty woman dying to get pregnant from Tell Me You Love Me (on HBO) flash before my eyes....she went through about 40 tests because she couldn't believe she wasn't pregnant.

I look down at the little results window. Having used every single home pregnancy test known to man over the past two and a half years, I don't recognize this one. Usually it's a + or a - , a pregnant or not pregnant, one line for not pregnant or two lines for pregnant. But what is this??? I don't understand what it's saying. I pull the directions out of the box, looking to decode what I'm seeing in the results window.

Excellent. I am now 99% sure that I am NOT ovulating. I peed on the wrong test stick. Because why wouldn't I have just peed on an ovulation indicator? That's what I get.

(Note: An ovulation indicator is what you use to determine your most fertile days in the month. It tells you your days with the best odds of conceiving. These have nothing to do with determining pregnancy. So you can see the usefulness of the information I just gathered!)

Neurotic

Today I'm wearing my camouflage pants again. They are the only ones that fit. My belly is distended. Is it a sign? Is my newly pregnant body changing before my eyes? Nature taking on the task of transforming me into a gorgeous round womanly woman of child-bearing readiness? Or is that the nightly injections of progesterone?

I'm wearing a sports bra....again. All my other bras are cutting into my skin beneath my boobs, and my boobs no longer fit into them either. Is it a sign? Is my body making it's transition? Or is it the double dose of estrogen patches I'm wearing on my belly at all times?

I'm feeling a little sluggish and fat. They say that women are really tired from the earliest moments of pregnancy because your body takes on all the work of preparing itself to support another human being. Or is it that I'm taking a pill to slow down my thyroid every morning?

I woke up this morning feeling a little nauseous. Is it a sign? Maybe it's morning sickness. Or maybe I'm just nauseous.

The pregnancy test is around the corner. I could say that the waiting is the hardest part, but really it's not. If you've read my previous blogs, the waiting is actually pretty darn easy. I mean, only one shot a day? Please! I can do that in my sleep!

I might be a freak

me: You did it wrong.

Ajay: I did what wrong?

me: You covered up wrong.

Ajay: How do you cover up wrong?

me: (fixing his error) The sheet was folded back...you have to unfold it and then pull the duvet up. Like this! See? Isn't that better?

Ajay: Thank goodness you're here. I was so uncomfortable that I didn't even know it.

I am NOT a crazy cat lady....my cat is just cuter than most...

I realize that the title of this blog will completely alienate me from anyone who may have been reading and even otherwise enjoying my blog up to this point. What can I say, it's a slow news day. But then again, how would I know that...I've spent my morning taking pictures of my cat. For all I know we could be invading another oil-rich nation under the guise of securing their freedom. (When I hear their freedom, my brain substitutes our oil). But that's not what I'm talking about today. Today, I'll be diverting attention to my cat, Pooh, named after Winnie the. There isn't room in my morning for warring nations or starving children today.

Here is what Pooh thinks of the newly painted and now fully functional fireplace.


Here is Pooh in her bunk. I love that she's taken to the little hiding place I created for her.


Here she has stumbled onto a natural spring; she excels at locating water in the wild.


Pooh likes to lye on anything that's on top of another thing, especially Ajay's clothes (or anything black---her white fur accentuates black very nicely).


Pooh loves plastic. Here she is claiming the plastic protective packaging our new rug came in.


We covered the chairs when they painted the ceiling, and Pooh immediately immersed herself in plastic deliciousness.



Now that the painters have gone, I'm actually afraid to get rid of her plastic.

Construction progress

We've made a lot of progress over the last week. The guys on the outside took on the monstrous task of moving the half-ton beams to the back yard.



They also worked on pouring the new patios outside the new side doors.

We got another delivery of plants, including a new tree for the front yard and the moss to replace the not-dense-enough thyme in between the travertine and cobblestone.




We finished painting the trim around the skylights, and the even cleaned all those filthy skylights!

The outdoor lounging cushions arrived.


They laid the foundation of the Buddha fountain.


They also touched up the kitchen cabinets, and re-painted the laundry room cabinets and the master bath cabinets. They touched up all the dry wall patches, and re-calked as needed.

The painters painted the fireplaces.


They delivered the rug for the new room.

Now we await the delivery of the couch, the exterior light fixtures, the A/C grate, a few pieces of hardware for the new doors. We still need to hang the swing, mount the exterior lamps on the sides of the fireplace, secure the beams, finish the fountain, move the Buddha, finish the side patios, repair the broken concrete on the front steps, finish planting the front and side yard. And a few hundred other little things---all in the next 3 days!