Again?
Well, after more or less recovering from the mystery illness, and with no firm date for Qatar yet set, I'm pregnant again. I really am, this time: I did a test and everything, and got a clear though faint second line, even though my period was only one day late and I didn't use morning urine. This month was the first month when I have been absolutely sure we had sex on the day of my LH surge, because I tested for that too. And while I was at it, I tested my FSH levels (oh, the joy of Internet shopping!) and found that they were normal, so obviously I am not yet perimenopausal either.
So: currently about 16 days post ovulation, I reckon. Breasts tender in that special pregnant tender way. No blood. Coffee not as nice as it used to be, but by no means a total turn off either. No real nausea, but slightly queasy feeling in the afternoon today. Lots of mysterious uterine twinges. No heightened sense of smell yet.
And so far, I haven't even told John (though if he's concentrating, he's bound to know). I am not telling anyone, just yet. I am not thinking too much about Down's (just under 2% risk) until I know I have a viable pregnancy (what are the odds for that? 50-50 at my age, which is now just 42, but then perhaps better than that, given ease of conception, which is certainly above average. Last time, I carried a dead embryo around for at least three weeks without knowing it. This time,if I get as far as 6 or 7 weeks, I'll have an early viability scan (privately if I can't get one on the NHS), so that I know ASAP whether it gets as far as a heartbeat. I am not trying to see the doctor yet. I don't want any part of those cheery, wholesome leaflets. I especially don't want a maternity exemption certificate that will become invalid if I lose the baby before 24 weeks. I am not looking up the due date. I am absolutely not registering with any online forums and risking having soppy development emails turning up in my inbox on random future dates. If this pregnancy fails too, of course rationally I should call a halt there. But I don't know if I'll be able to do that, if this try will provide enough closure, in the jargon. So while I am sort of ignoring things, I'm stopping myself from facing up to the horrible fallout that I'll have to deal with if things go wrong.
I'm not especially worried, strangely. During the last few months, when I wondered if I could still conceive easily (though I can't really say it took any time at all to succeed, not with the likely failed implantations and the husband absent at key moments and the illness and suchlike), it felt as if conception was the goal, and as if I would be so grateful and my uncertainties resolved, if only I knew I could still conceive. Now I have conceived, easily and naturally again, and I am sorry to say that I am not particularly grateful, or apprehensive, or ... anything, really. I suppose I am trying to keep as detached as possible until I am a little further down this road, while at the same time seeking as much scientific information as possible, as if knowledge will actually alter any outcome.
I picked a tarot card last week, before I knew, and asked what would happen about my chance of conception this cycle, and got Death, which was disconcerting. Assuming it wasn't just random twaddle, this could either mean "death to your chances of conception", which it obviously didn't, or "death to your zygote" - let's hope not - or, as the more abtruse advice on interpretation tends to suggest, nothing to do with death at all as such, but just things like "this is the end of one period in your life and the start of another." So let's hope it meant the end of the waiting and uncertainty, then.
One thing I know: some time between now and the end of next January, a lot of blood and something else are going to come out of my vagina in a painful and messy way. How, and what the outcome will be, who knows? I certainly don't.
So: currently about 16 days post ovulation, I reckon. Breasts tender in that special pregnant tender way. No blood. Coffee not as nice as it used to be, but by no means a total turn off either. No real nausea, but slightly queasy feeling in the afternoon today. Lots of mysterious uterine twinges. No heightened sense of smell yet.
And so far, I haven't even told John (though if he's concentrating, he's bound to know). I am not telling anyone, just yet. I am not thinking too much about Down's (just under 2% risk) until I know I have a viable pregnancy (what are the odds for that? 50-50 at my age, which is now just 42, but then perhaps better than that, given ease of conception, which is certainly above average. Last time, I carried a dead embryo around for at least three weeks without knowing it. This time,if I get as far as 6 or 7 weeks, I'll have an early viability scan (privately if I can't get one on the NHS), so that I know ASAP whether it gets as far as a heartbeat. I am not trying to see the doctor yet. I don't want any part of those cheery, wholesome leaflets. I especially don't want a maternity exemption certificate that will become invalid if I lose the baby before 24 weeks. I am not looking up the due date. I am absolutely not registering with any online forums and risking having soppy development emails turning up in my inbox on random future dates. If this pregnancy fails too, of course rationally I should call a halt there. But I don't know if I'll be able to do that, if this try will provide enough closure, in the jargon. So while I am sort of ignoring things, I'm stopping myself from facing up to the horrible fallout that I'll have to deal with if things go wrong.
I'm not especially worried, strangely. During the last few months, when I wondered if I could still conceive easily (though I can't really say it took any time at all to succeed, not with the likely failed implantations and the husband absent at key moments and the illness and suchlike), it felt as if conception was the goal, and as if I would be so grateful and my uncertainties resolved, if only I knew I could still conceive. Now I have conceived, easily and naturally again, and I am sorry to say that I am not particularly grateful, or apprehensive, or ... anything, really. I suppose I am trying to keep as detached as possible until I am a little further down this road, while at the same time seeking as much scientific information as possible, as if knowledge will actually alter any outcome.
I picked a tarot card last week, before I knew, and asked what would happen about my chance of conception this cycle, and got Death, which was disconcerting. Assuming it wasn't just random twaddle, this could either mean "death to your chances of conception", which it obviously didn't, or "death to your zygote" - let's hope not - or, as the more abtruse advice on interpretation tends to suggest, nothing to do with death at all as such, but just things like "this is the end of one period in your life and the start of another." So let's hope it meant the end of the waiting and uncertainty, then.
One thing I know: some time between now and the end of next January, a lot of blood and something else are going to come out of my vagina in a painful and messy way. How, and what the outcome will be, who knows? I certainly don't.
posted by Alison at
3:05 PM
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