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Permanent PMS

PMS, if you suffer from it badly, is a terrible thing. I have two close friends who, for two weeks of the month, are somewhere between slightly emotional and practically suicidal. It must be terrible; my heart really goes out to them.

 

As for me, well, among the not-so-fun things about having polycystic ovaries (i.e. infertility, olive on a toothpick body shape), there is the advantage of hardly ever having your period.  No period means no PMS. And even when I do get it, I get it mildly.

 

I normally know when I am PMS because 2 days before I get my period, I eat as if the end of the world is nigh. I also get a bit weepy the day before, but the most obviously signal that something is up, is that my husband irritates me immensely.

 

Now, my husband usually irritates me anyway. Which is understandable as he is particularly annoying at the best of times. But during that brief one or two day PMS spell, he drives me absolutely bat shit crazy. The way he drives irritates me. Even his breathing irritates me. I look for places to hide his body wherever I go.

 

As if that is not bad enough, it is usually around this time that for some reason unknown to logical man, I decide we need to have The Talk. Suddenly, after months and years of being absolutely fine, I decide that he is not: caring enough / helpful enough / loving enough / sensitive enough etc. And then I will tell him that We Need to Talk.

 

Now, if there is something Marko hates even more than loud people, stupid people, slow drivers and his German ex boss, it is having The Talk. The words “Sweetheart, we need to talk” is enough to make his sphincter loosen.

 

Marko does not do The Talk well. Which is probably why we do it so seldom. First he gets defensive, then he gets cross, then he shouts, then I cry, then he calms down and then we both say sorry.

 

This morning I felt not unfamiliar feelings of intense irritation at my husband. He has been particularly insensitive and unloving lately. Last night I stormed out of the bedroom in a huff and slept in the spare bed the whole night because HE TOOK MY FAVOURITE PILLOW. He clearly hates me and everything about me because if he loved me he would willingly offer up the favourite pillow to me. I AM PREGNANT AFTER ALL!!

 

And then it hit me. Early pregnancy is a lot like permanent PMS.  The food cravings, the moodiness, the bloating, the intense husband hatred…..except that it lasts for three months, not three days.

 

Poor Marko. Let’s hope it passes before I find that perfect spot to bury his body.

 

PS If you are ever fortunate enough to be pregnant for the first time, enjoy and relish every single minute of it. When the second (or seventh in my case) time comes around, there is no peace for the wicked. No rest, no special treatment. In the words of my immortal husband, you will just have to “suck it up, you are pregnant, not disabled”. Where did you say that shallow grave was?

LBC = all's well

All's well.  Even saw fingers. Child is clearly advanced.  Measuring 4.8cm, 11w2d. So far so good.

A bit of this, and a bit of that

You know what the one good thing about being pregnant 7 times? You get really good use out of your pregnancy books.

 

I had nothing to read last night, so I peered into my book cupboard and there I saw “Your pregnancy over 35”. Hahaha! I remember when I bought that book (pregnancy number 2 I think), I was still under 35 but it was cheap and on sale and you know me, never one to miss a bargain. And here I am, pregnant over 40 and still reading the bloody book. Slow learner.

 

In the infertile world, your period / monthlies / whatever you call it, is a big thing. When you are doing treatment you hope like hell it stays away, but when you want to start treatment, you pray for it to arrive so that you can begin already. There is one sure fire way of getting your period to start – where your best new underwear and / or white pants.  Works every time.

 

Well, I’ve discovered a possible way to get pregnant – after years of agonizing and going back and forth in your mind whether you should or should not think about another child, make up your mind not to and donate every single last item of baby stuff, including all the big ticket items and any / all maternity clothes to charity. I have not a thing left. Not even a bib.

 

I also have nothing to wear as I am eating with an enthusiasm that borders on alarming. In my non-pregnant state, I am quite good at eating well, but pregnancy is a time to let it all hang out, so to speak. It is all literally hanging out at the moment, which is not a very good look at all.

 

By the way – for those who have been fortunate to get pregnant, how soon did you start showing? Two days after conception? Four days? I look six months pregnant, and I am not even joking. The olive has grown to the size of a giant pumpkin. V v attractive.

 

I obviously can’t buy any maternity clothes because that would be foolish in the extreme and terribly jinxy so I suffer forth in my husband’s baggy T shirts and roomy shorts. Ok, I did buy one maternity top, but it was REDUCED BY SEVENTY PERCENT!!!! It would have been stupid and childish not to buy it. It is still in the bag, with the receipt in case, you know.  Will take it out after the CVS.

 

Which by the way, is now happening on Tuesday the 25^th Nov. The FISH results should take 3-5 days to come through, so hopefully by that Friday. Or else the weekend is going to be horribly long.

 

BTW, my birthday is the day after the CVS. Guess I wont be going out dancing for my birthday. 

That's it really, I think I am going to have a little snack.  Chat soon xxx

 

 

PS I am feeling quite at peace with my decision re the CVS etc. The debate was excellent and very interesting. I am very fond of you all.

 

PPS I think I will ask them to tie my tubes when they do the C section*. Because I clearly can not be trusted when it comes to either making babies, or preventing them from happening in the first place. Thanks Orange for the suggestion.

*How's that for positive thinking!  Are you proud of me!!

 

The unglow and the serious question

Edited to add: Thank you for a very civil conversation about a topic that has the potential to inflame some serious passion on all sides.  It certainly has given me a lot of food for thought.  I will come back with a personal take on it, but I just wanted to point you to one comment that stood out very powerfully for me - a personal take on the issue from a disabled 22 year old woman called Sarah.  What a powerful comment, what an amazing sounding woman.  Please scroll down to the last comment on page 4 here.  Sarah responds a few comments later as well

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Even by my very low standards, I have to admit that I am not looking at my best at the moment.  Not that my best is particularly outstanding, but Oh My Word, I am looking particularly unattractive.  No pregnancy glow here, only the sheen from my oily complexion.  My skin has gone to shit and I have pimples all over.  And of course, nothing fits me as I am at the in-between stage where you are too large for your normal clothes, and too paranoid about dead babies etc to buy maternity clothes. I'm a right old bundle of joy at the moment.

I would like to do a poll to gauge your feeling on something.  Its a very sensitive issue, but I would like to hear your opinion. It is question around whether you would terminate a pregnancy if you found out (conclusively) at twelve weeks, that there was something atypical* with the baby.  I will do a poll and you are welcome to add your comments.  Please make sure that they aren't offensive to anyone else.  If you do select 'other', please enter your reason in the little grey box underneath the word 'other'.

* I am very conscious of using the correct terminology, although I am not sure what the correct term is.  I am talking about irreversible chromosomal 'conditions' that range from the very mild (Down Syndrome) to the very severe (not compatible with life / life threatening)

PS  I am also very conscious of my many friends who have children who are 'atypical', and I want to assure them that this is not a judgement on who they are, who their children are, or what decisions they did or didn't take etc.  I hope I am not being insensitive, but as I approach my big twelve week scan, it is something that is top of mind for me.

LBC = all's well

Apologies, a few of you have been asking about the LBCs and for some or other reason I've been reluctant to speak too much about LN7 (lucky number 7), as the little sprog is called.  I am not sure why I am reluctant to talk about it.  I guess because it feels a bit like I am talking about eating pudding when others are starving.  Talking about a well earned lunch would have been fine, but pudding?  That's just bragging.  Old habits die hard.

Anyway, LBC went well and I even got to see arms and legs. Can't believe it. 

There is some confusion as to how far along I am.  According my calculation, I am 9 weeks.  According to the measurements, I am 10 weeks.  According to my last menstrual period, I am 11 weeks.  This last measurement is the most unreliable as I dont think I've ever ovulated on day 14 in my life.  So either LN7 is extremely advanced, extremely slow or just normal. Who knows. The problem however, is that we do need to know in order to do the CVS test (like an early amnio) which has to happen at a specific time.  I had the CVS scheduled for the 27th Nov but now my doctor thinks we might have to bring it forward.  This is the problem with the whole 'natural conception' thing.  All very messy and unscheduled.  And I am not just talking about the deed itself.

And, darn. I got a flutter of hope and excitment today when I saw the wriggling arms and legs.  I so didn't want to get my hopes up before the CVS.  I am very nervous for the CVS.  Its a big thing with big consequences.  More on that later.

How can you NOT know?

You here stories about women who are 6, 7, 8 months pregnant and who do not know they are knocked up.  I find that mind boggling.  I am amazed that anyone can be pregnant and not know.  Besides the obviously belly, what about all those other pregnancy ailments?

If I didn't know I was pregnant, I would think there was something Seriously Wrong with me.  What about the blocked nose and the nose bleeds?  Sensitive gums? The total change in taste? The nausea? The food aversions?  The puking?  The grumpiness?  How can you not know??

I am amazed that some people don't get any of that.  It's like I'm allergic to being pregnant.  The minute I get knocked up, I collapse into a heap of patheticness.  You know how some people glow and become even more beautiful when they are pregnant?  Yeah, that's not me. 

Not that I'm complaining of course! Oh no, not me. I'm happy happy happy here in the corner.  No, that look is not because I am constipated (as well), it is a GRIN. I AM GRINNING, SEE!  HAPPY!

I think I will go lie down for a bit. 

Emergency LBC*

*For those who weren’t here four years ago: LBC = Live Baby Check and DBTs = Dead Baby Thoughts. For those of you who were around four years ago, déjà vu.

 

In the ideal world, you get pregnant, you are happy and then nine months later you have a baby. You go for a few scans through out your pregnancy, and you sail through happy skippy.

 

In my world, you don’t get pregnant, then you don’t get pregnant some more. Then you get pregnant and it dies. And then you get pregnant and it dies some more. Rinse and repeat x6. You are only happy when that baby is born. Healthy. Not premature. You try and last two weeks between scans, but inevitably the DBTs sneak in until you are convinced all is lost and the only way to stay sane is to have regular (WEEKLY) LBCs.

 

Because I am supposed to be all Zen about this pregnancy and not really care whether it works out or not (YEAH RIGHT), I thought I should do a LBC only every second week. Because I am so calm this time. Oh, forgive me while I laugh hysterically.

 

It has been 8 days since my last scan and by this morning the DBTs were threatening to consume me. I called my wonderful new gynae and said I need to come in for a LBC, I’ll be super quick, I’ll even take my pants off in the car on the way there. I’ll run in, buck naked, and scan myself if the good doctor is busy with someone else. Divine Doctor said come in now. I was there in five minutes. All well. Live Baby, beating heart, growing nicely.

 

I immediately made weekly appointments. I just can’t do it. I thought I could last two weeks, but I can’t. The longest I can last without going totally insane is 7 days. And yes, I will get a Doppler, but I think it only works after 12 weeks, right? Weekly LBCs will have to suffice till then.

 

This will be my last pregnancy, ever. I can’t do this again.

No news is good news

Not much to report this side. Which is good I suppose. Still grumpy, still nauseous. Which is good. I have a whole week to go before my next scan and I am constantly fighting the DBTs*. I don’t know where I was going with that whole “I can last two weeks” thing. V childish. So, that’s my boring update. Sorry, I should hopefully get my personality back soon. Hopefully.

 

*Dead baby thoughts

Zofran: almost like Viagra

Zofran is to pregnant women what Viagra is to horny old men:  It does not solve all your problems, but it certainly helps you function a lot better than without it.

I *heart* Zofran and you

Thank you dear hearts, for your warm wishes and kind words.  And a big thank you especially to those who suggested the Zofran, I feel a million times better.  Of course, it could be because LN7 (lucky number 7) has died and not from the Zofran but lets hope it is the pill and not the dead baby thing. 

My children's first school pics, taken by the very talented Renee Frouws.  Aren't they just gorgeous. They get that from their mother.