out of the pregnancy closet
...and boy, am I glad. See the post below to read through my ramblings from the first 12 weeks (well, 10 weeks of pregnancy really - don't ask me how this stuff works). It's been tough. Really, really tough. It was impossible to know what it would be like to be pregnant after a loss, and it truly threw me. Panic, worry, anxiety, fear, pessimism, superstition (before I had the miscarriage, I kept coming across articles about people losing babies which made me extremely aware of "signs" like that this time around), dread, paranoia, and a million other negative emotions have plagued me from the beginning. I used to absolutely love being pregnant; it breaks my heart that this has been stolen from me.
I felt sick all day yesterday, waiting for 6:30pm to have my scan. I kept myself busy, which is easy to do when it's my day off with Jack. We ran errands and spent the afternoon making Christmas tree decorations, and seeing the happiness in my little boy's face as he smeared icing and sprinkles all over the place lifted my heart. I spent the later hours trying not to wee, drinking copious amounts of water. We got to the Day Assessment Unit and discovered that we had to wait - ironically, because the lady ahead of me didn't come prepared and had to wait for a jug of water to make it through to her bladder. We sat (I squirmed) while Jack pointed at every visible object and said "What's that?" Personally, I think it's rather cruel to force a nervous pregnant lady who is about to burst to wait for half an hour. I really do hate hospitals.
Our turn finally came and the Mysterious Mr. Lim (readers from Jack's birth will remember this character) entered the room to do the scan. The scan was so thorough and he kindly pointed everything on the screen out to us. Jack kept up his chant of "What's that?" interspersed with "Mummy!", and he was brilliantly behaved after a shaky start. Apparently entering a strange darkened room full of electronic equipment isn't a pleasant experience when you're a toddler. The baby moved around like mad, waving its arms, stretching, and at one point, it turned its back on us and mooned us. This is why I'm thinking "boy" at the moment. My risk for Downs and a few other chromosomal defects were assessed, showing a far reduced risk for my age group. In fact, I'm carrying the baby of a 28-year-old. Not bad for an old broad. It was wonderful to see the baby being so active (Jack barely budged during his 12 week scan and had to be prodded every now and then by the sonographer), and it was a huge relief to know that everything was fine. Finally.
This pregnancy has been very different. I've had every symptom in the book and not only am I craving specific foods (some of which I normally hate - like fruitcake, for goodness sake), I've gone of some foods as well. Never had that happen before. Still thinking boy but with all the trouble I've had so far, maybe it is a girl after all.