Mixed emotions

Following the ultrasound I should have been thrilled. I should have run right home and posted my news. What did I do instead? I cried for about 15 minutes, then slept for the hour ride home. The scenario reminds me of a conversation I had with a fellow nurse. We had taken care of a woman who, following over a decade of infertility, finally gave birth to beautiful twin girls. The new mother was obsessed with every little twinge during her recovery (she had had a c-section), and did not seem to be fawning over the girls "enough" in my friend's opinion. I told her that after dealing with infertility for SO long, she was probably still waiting for the other shoe to drop. That with us IFers, there never seems to be a finish line, that there is always another hurtle to jump. Even in good news, there is a shadow of "what if?"



Anyway, so here's the scoop. Ultrasound was fine. There was a nice round gestational sac, a yolk sac, and a flicker of a heartbeat that they just couldn't quite capture yet. They saw everything that they were hoping to see...but it didn't seem like it was enough. I was greedy and wanted a strong, unquestionable heartbeat. I have relived the details of what was said and how, trying to ascertain whether the RE and the nurse (and the us tech) were really thrilled...as they flat out said they were, or if they are just trying to keep me in a positive state of mind until the next scan. They gave us a picture of our little nugget. They have never done that before, I've always gone into my own online medical record and downloaded it myself. So both DH and I are saying "this must be good, if they gave us the picture". So next scan is this Thursday at 7w2d. I was going to put it off a few days so that there would be more to see, but this is the only time that works.



In the meantime, I'm desperately trying to keep myself busy. We finally had two days of beautiful weather. (It has been lousy with rain and thunderstorms for WEEKS up here in the northeast). The sun came out for my daughter's 5th birthday party this weekend. It was an awesome party, just the right mix of some family and some friends...not too many of each. I dove head first into making my daughter's cake. A relatively new "hobby" that is usually fun and challenging and occasionally stressful.




It seems crazy to me that I feel like a Debbie Downer...and things are looking good! I have nothing but good news, but I remind myself that I have been here before and it all went to shit. I'm hoping that if we can get past eight weeks, I will loosen up a bit and actually say the words "I'm PG" (see...can't even write it).