Category: family

anxiety, family, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

thesolomamaproject

Last night I was at my friend C’s super fun NYE party, a great time–I was playing music at midnight and tossing back the sparkling waters with a hint of juice! Rather than drive home late with questionable drivers on the road, I spent the night there along with 6 other house guests.

We went to bed around 2:30am. I tossed and turned, sleeping lightly, nervous about the morning’s test. Even though I knew in my bones that it would be positive. In rehearsing how I would react to a negative, I told myself that if it said “Not Pregnant,” it would just be wrong, and I’d test again the next day.

At 7am, I heard C get up to get her mom up to go to the airport, then I heard the four people in the living room rustling around and preparing to leave. I had to pee. I had precious moments to do my test before someone else would need the bathroom. These tests recommend FMU: First Morning Urine.

I got the box and tiptoed to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind me. With nervousness and lack of sleep, my hands were shaking and I was sure the whole house could hear me wrestling with the plastic around the box. Finally got it open. I have to read the directions every time. Yet again, they hadn’t changed: put the test stick in the stream of urine for 5 seconds, then wait 3 minutes for the result.

I did it. I washed my hands and my face. I stared at the blinking hourglass. It really seemed to take forever. I started cursing it, caught myself, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them, I saw one word: “Pregnant” !!!! YES!

This is blurry after many attempts to get my camera phone to focus, still love the result and will keep staring at it until the battery runs out:

Image

I tiptoed back to my sleeping bag and N whispered, “did you test?” and I thrust the stick at her, she put on her glasses, and we silently hugged with wide smiles. I got in my sleeping bag and lay there for a little while to let it sink in. So many things have already gone right at this point: the little implanted bundle of cells is emitting HCG which is what results in the positive test. Good job, everybody!

I put on my boots and my jacket over my pajamas and stepped outside. It was a gorgeous, crisp morning in San Rafael. As I heard my mom’s sleepy voice answer the phone, i watched as the first rays of sun climbed above the green hills.

A new year, a new day, and a new beginning!

I just napped for two hours and now I’m going to meet up with two pregnant SMC friends for dinner. I love how things are coming together.

Praying that the nugget found a good spot and has all it needs to thrive.

Happy New Year!!!!

donor sperm, family, fertility, IUI, ovulation, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

the year in review

thesolomamaproject

A year ago, I drove to the Grand Canyon to shake hands with the universe. An excerpt from my journal:

12/30/11: Here I am–end of the year, solo roadtrip, contemplating the New Year.

Once I arrived last night, I thought, Wow, OK, it’s really time to make a decision about having a baby. A little voice said, “I’ve already decided.” It’s true. It feels true and right and it’s my destiny. It doesn’t mean I won’t be fearful or stressed or lonely at times. But the decision has always been made, since I was born with my finite set of eggs. One (at least one) will become my child.

…So, My Baby, if you’re reading this one day, I made the decision tonight to bring you into the world. You who could be so many different people but who somehow is destined to be one and only one you. I’ve worked so hard to get here, and I feel proud and relieved and and scared. But tonight, peace.”

The decision was so clear. In truth, the decision was made implicitly as I extricated myself from my last relationship: if not x, then y. It took a couple of months to make it official.

It’s amazing how much time it takes to really get the process rolling, which is something I always want to point out to women contemplating this path–each step takes time, longer than you think. Do not delay!

Once the decision was made (after years of contemplation and several months of research), I was charting my cycles, did my paperwork at the sperm bank, had an intake appointment. I chose my donor, McPiercy, at the end of February (this was a whole process in and of itself that I will describe once McPiercy knocks me up for keeps). I missed my ovulation window in early March, unsure and hesitant about how to interpret a positive ovulation kit. Finally, on April 3, my dad’s birthday, I went for IUI#1. And I started this blog!

My blog is one of the best outcomes of 2012. Thanks to all of you who read it and encourage me in a million ways.

#1 didn’t take and the first BFN was rough. #2, same deal. In retrospect, it was so DIY with the sperm bank that I’m sure I had the timing off. IUI#3 in June was a hit! The poppy seed! But three days later I started bleeding just as the official blood test results came in: negative. There is nothing like the first BFP and telling everyone for the first time. I will use revisionist history to tack those first shares on to the pregnancy that yields the birth of my baby. 🙂

The chemical pregnancy was devastating and bewildering, but I had only 3 days of believing I was prego–I reverted fairly quickly back to trying mode. And it was good news that my body is able to do its thing.

I barreled into IUI#4 two weeks later, spending much of the two week wait on summer vacation with my family, blissed out by the lake, knowing intuitively the whole time that I was pregnant and that this would be it. I tested the day before I left: BFP. Happy and calm. I knew this time it would work because I had already paid my dues the month before.

Wrong. The 6.5 week ultrasound showed no fetal pole. It was inconclusive and they wanted me to come back in a week. Work travel prevented me from having another ultrasound until nearly two weeks later. It was a bad scene. I was stoic.

The moment I saw the ultrasound screen upon return to SF, I could tell the lentil hadn’t progressed. The nurse said, “I’m so sorry.” Numb. Discussion of next steps to remove the “products of conception.” Cried in the courtyard with A.

Fortunately, I didn’t go off the deep end about it. It was hard when I was in the middle of it, really hard. And then gradually I moved on.

That was four months ago. I went to Brazil and totally forgot everything for ten days–brilliant timing and a wonderful trip.

IUI #5 in the beginning of October, IUI#6 at the end of October, both BFNs. Emotionally disconnected and fatigued as I approached the end of the year. Took November off.

Which brings us to lucky #7. If I wait the full 14 days, I’ll test on New Year’s Day, 3 days from now. I am emotionally reconnected. I am present, alert to every twinge and tenderness, nothing to distract me while I”m staycationing. I am sleeping well, eating ridiculously well–today I had eggs w/ spinach and a smoothie of banana, frozen mango, frozen açai, blueberries, kale, coconut milk, and ginger. For lunch: a sandwich of leftover turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry. For dinner: salmon and quinoa with spinach. C’mon, that’s ridiculously healthy, right? (as I head to the kitchen for chocolate peanut butter ice cream…)

I also did a massive purge of my closet today–10 bags of clothes, cosmetics, shoes ready to give away! Pow!

2012 was quite a ride, and yet I have never wavered on the decision made one year ago. I wouldn’t change a thing. Thank you, 2012, for teaching me so much and for getting me to where I am now. Babies, are you in there?

2013: let’s get it on!

 

 

dating, donor sperm, family, IUI, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

lucky #7

thesolomamaproject

I entered Round 7 with a hopeful heart and UCSF welcomed me with love. It was so touching and unexpected. The receptionist, usually all business, called me sweetheart and wished me luck on my “big day.” The nurse who took me to the exam room welcomed me with a twinkle in her eye. When I told Nurse Stephanie about the puff of air that came out at the end of the trigger shot and how I’d probably get it right next time, she smiled and said, “Let’s hope there is no next time.”

She injected McPiercy’s 9 million and left me alone with my thoughts. I cried a tear. I prayed. And then I got dressed.

As I walked out, the receptionist actually followed me to the elevator. She gently touched my back as she said, “I just wanted to tell you that I feel this time will work–you’re going to get good news.” I thanked her from the bottom of my heart and got on the elevator and burst into tears. On the street, I called my mom and burst into tears again relaying all of the above.

In reality, nobody ever knows what’s going on in there in the early stages, but these felt like good omens. My hope balloon was inflated with helium and it’s still flying high.

The next day, I saw my acupuncturist and he says my pulse is back to normal: good energy, low stress. I feel good. I’m getting a lot of sleep. I’ve confirmed almost daily with Dr. Google that there really are no legit symptoms until implantation–no hormonal changes, no nothing. Just two fine embryos traveling along.

This hasn’t stopped me from mentally reaching out to them, scanning my internal night sky with radar. But they are stealth fighters, undetectable until they’re ready for me to pick up a signal.

I’m mostly patient, occasionally slip into what-if scenarios, and wake up every morning expressing gratitude. The next 9 days of staycation and time with beloved family is precisely what I want and need.

Meanwhile, my latest dating busy work seems to be winding down and I’m looking forward to starting 2013 with a clean slate:

  • In a moment of weakness, I texted Morocco to say how are you and he texted back within 30 seconds to say he’s fine, thanks. Four days later, he added, “and you?”
  • I finally got the actual invitation from Hawaii, 5 days from the date in question and 1 day after his arrival in Portland. He said how about coming up next weekend. He’s staying with his buddy who would be totally cool with a “third roomie.” And by the way, how are plane tickets looking?

 

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I can do better. WAY BETTER.

In 2013, I will veer away from the exotic, unavailable men of the internet.

Thank you for all your prayerful texts, emails, comments, phone calls and amens–and especially to M for talking me off several ledges related to Dr. H.

Please keep sending your love to the wonder twins currently sailing down their lazy river. Send them a welcoming mental text. Everything helps.

Wishing you all a wonderful holiday!

 

dating, family

sweetness

thesolomamaproject

After sweating it out all night, I woke up yesterday morning feeling almost back to normal. My niece found me around 7:30am in front of the linen closet wearing only a long, silky blue blanket, and she thought I might be wearing an elegant ball gown. My sister thought I might have lost my mind but I was trying to change the soaking sheets, which she did for me before I even finished talking to my niece about the gown.

It struck me over the weekend how each of us expresses love in different ways. We often expect to receive it the same way we give it, and yet this is never a cookie cutter equation.

My middle sister kicked into high Florence Nightingale gear: she tracked my medication schedule, fluid intake, temperature, rearranged my blankets according to whether I was hot or cold. She typed out a text to my doctor friend as I dictated, mumbling under the blankets with my eyes closed. She brought my favorite kind of Gatorade (purple). I was practically catatonic and needed and appreciated all of it.

My mom, of course, kicked into high Mom gear, pushing hard early to go to the ER (it was definitely the right decision).

My youngest sister did reiki and, once I was eating, made me life-giving smoothies.

My dad spent much of two days driving me to doctors and waiting, totally without complaint despite the number of hours involved, and took solidarity naps while I slept on.

When my niece asked around the table, “What are you thankful for today?” My brother in law said he was thankful that I was feeling so much better, bringing a tear to my eye.

My niece shows love by giving you a surprise zerbert in the small of your back, under your shirt, while you’re sitting at the table. She always has an enthusiastic plan for something we can do together. She asked every day if I was feeling better.

Her younger sister, my little niece, is pure love at 13 months, saying “ahhhh!’ after sipping a pretend bottle of water or going “woo! woo!” when she sees a dog, or standing at the windowsill looking at birds and then nearly losing her balance because she’s so emphatically doing the sign for bird. My favorite was when I said, “What does the bear say?” and she said, softly with mischief in her eye, “Raw!”

When we said good bye, the baby was waving frantically with a beaming smile. (Can you guys please move to California?)

Littlest sister and I drove 2.5 hrs to Philly and she listened patiently as I talked through my growing suspense about the Moroccan now that I was better and about to return home. We talked through the alternatives. I couldn’t believe this sweet, mild-mannered guy was capable of such a malicious disappearance. I couldn’t reconcile it, couldn’t handle the zero information. I needed closure.

I sat with my phone for a long time at the aiport, about to do something but not sure what. Suddenly, at about the time they probably announced “final boarding call,” I hit his number, and he answered. It was a stupid time to call–I had to show my boarding pass, walk through blowing heaters in the jetway and then pass through an army of wailing babies. But he sounded glad to hear from me, wanted to know how my Thanksgiving was (I told him and he was horrified). I told him I was surprised not to hear from him, wondered if something had happened. He said he’d been working on his immigration paperwork, is really stressed for lots of reasons about it, and just wasn’t feeling optimistic about his “overall situation.” Which maybe means he can’t stay.

That’s all I needed to know. Stressful time for him on pretty much every level, and he’s not super available as a result. He started to offer to pick me up when my flight lands (relief–he didn’t go through a personality reversal!). But I declined and it turns out he leaves town tomorrow for a while so let’s just leave it there for now. We both sounded full of melancholy as we signed off. I sincerely wished him good luck.

It hurt my heart, the sweetness of it.

All of it.

 

dating, family

Thanksgiving in the ER

thesolomamaproject

As I finished writing the previous post, I realized that I had gotten chilled under the cool air of the ceiling fan and moved into my bedroom under a blanket, but I couldn’t warm up. Soon, I developed a fever. Aches. Hives across my midsection. Not sure what was happening, I headed to urgent care with my dad.

They diagnosed a probable allergy to the antibiotic I was taking–apparently it’s relatively common. They switched me to a different antibiotic. I returned home relieved that maybe I’d feel better for Thanksgiving once the allergy settled down.

But I woke on Thanksgiving feeling way worse. High fever (my sister’s thermometer was reading 101-103), vomiting, chills, could barely get out of bed. One sister came in at intervals to take my temperature and make me drink, the other did reiki on me while I slept. By around 2:30 I was doing no better so my parents took me to the ER.

I got admitted and my parents spent 6 hours patiently waiting while I went through a bunch of tests. They ate bad cafeteria food instead of the bountiful family dinner we had planned…but I could tell they didn’t want to be anywhere else as long as I was so sick. As unexpected and unfortunate as the whole ordeal was, it made me so grateful for my family. And for good health which is so easy to take for granted when we have it.

They gave me fluids, anti-nausea medication, and a new antibiotic via IV and ended up doing a pelvic exam, ultrasound, and cat scan due to some tenderness in my abdomen, but they didn’t find anything beyond a “complicated UTI.” So eventually they discharged me, I paid my $200 copay (totally worth it), and we headed home. (The irony was not lost on me that I had a pelvic exam and ultrasound on my “month off.”)

Today, I am so weak. My temperature vacillates between freezing shivers and sweating through my clothes. I am on my 5th outfit of the day. I’ve taken 3-4 naps and just about as many baths. The hives look like welts. I ate some food today but not too much. I’m certainly on the upswing but my body is still saying WTF.

All of this provides some perspective on my previous post–I had poison running through my veins for 5 days. My outlook was certainly clouded. I’m still emerging from the clouds and glad to be moving in the right direction. And I am so fortunate that this happened while I was with a team of caretakers who love me! Thank you, family!

For those of you tracking the Moroccan, I have still heard nothing and it’s been a week so I’m not expecting to. Unless he also ended up in the hospital with no access to his phone, I totally misjudged that guy.

In better news, Dr. Hawaii just texted to set something up for Monday–let’s hope I get myself home in one piece!