Cliffhanging

Apologies for the cliffhanger.  Let me start by saying that Cinco is fine, I've made it to 12 weeks.  The last six weeks have included horrible, terrible morning sickness (all day sickness) to the point where I couldn't drive, couldn't scroll on a screen without vomiting, no grocery shopping because of all the smells, I even threw up in my neighbors bushes on a walk.  They weren't home...don't judge.  There was one ER visit for dehydration and severe cramping, but Cinco still lives.  We are due on March 4th, which happens to be the anniversary of Husband's father's death.  Husband thinks it's a little weird, I think it's kind of cool.  Sort of like a life going out, a life coming in...even if it is six years later.  Maybe I'm demented (maybe there's no maybe about it).

I sit here at 12 weeks and two days with a bit of a bit of a belly.  It really looks like I've eaten too many chips, which is probably true, but it's nice to see some outward sign that I'm pregnant.  I'm not going to post any belly pics, mostly because I want to be sensitive to others that follow this blog (and partly because I just hate taking pictures).  I know when other bloggers got pregnant and I was not, it was difficult.  On one hand I felt happy for them..isn't a victory for all of us when a fellow infertile gets and stays pregnant?  The flip side of that is that I always felt left behind, even jealous, still struggling.  Those are crappy emotions to manage and it sucks. 

I had my first regular OB visit last week.  There were a lot of warring emotions...I was so happy to have graduated from the fertility clinic, but I also hated being in the regular office.  My fertility clinic has a chair for umm..larger people. I always sat in it because A) a little self esteem boost never hurts anyone and B) it was comfortable. The new doctor has no such chair. Are you kidding me?  You have pregnant women waddling around.  Get bigger chairs.   Sitting in the waiting room,  I was coming out of my skin with nerves and I told Husband I wanted to go back to Dr. R.  He politely told me to get a grip, that I belonged in this office too.  Right, I may be pregnant, but I fought to be here.  Isn't there some golden throne for people like us?

The only thing I didn't like about the practice is that they said they didn't listen to the heartbeat until 13 weeks because it was too hard to hear.  Umm..what?  No, you will listen to the  heartbeat with me every time. Maybe multiple times.  You clearly have no idea how much I need that reassurance, you regular non recurrent pregnancy loss having nurse.  Anyway, we found Cinco thumping away at 169, 170.  The nurse was really, really nice and the doctor is fabulous.  I really think we're in the right place for Cinco.  Oh, and the new doctor is Dr. S.  Figure we may as well go down the alphabet, yes?

Other than allllllllllllll of that, nothing is new.  I've been spending a lot of time laying in bed with my cats, sleeping off the nausea.  Husband has been great at dealing with my crazy emotions and getting me whatever I think I might be able to eat.  Before anyone asks, I don't clean the catboxes.  It's never been on my radar.  I handle the vomit end, Husband handles the back end.  It works out. 

So that's me.  I leave you with a picture of my Aayla cat.  She takes a nap while I shower every day.  I guess it's bonding?