Twins.
I am pregnant.
I am pregnant with twins.
Two babies.
Two heartbeats.
Two beautiful, strong heartbeats.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
infertility, you stupid jerk face.
Beta 3 20dp3dt=15,172
The nurse says I'm "very pregnant." That's gotta be good.
Looking forward to my ultrasound makes me feel like a six year old waiting for Santa, but less patient.
And I have to keep checking with myself to see if it's sunk in yet. (It hasn't). After three years of trying and a lifetime of dreaming, I'm pregnant. I'm embarrassed to admit that almost every day I'm tempted to take another pregnancy test, just to see those two pink lines again and again. And somehow, it's my reaction to that temptation that sums up infertility better than any words I can ever put together. Aside from that first bold day, I haven't taken another at home test...no matter how badly I want to see those two lines. I have a beta of 15,172, and I'm scared of the stupid pee stick.
Infertility, let's break up. I hate your guts, and you have bad breath. You terrify me. Your farts smell like rotting dead skunk.
I refuse to let you define me.
The nurse says I'm "very pregnant." That's gotta be good.
Looking forward to my ultrasound makes me feel like a six year old waiting for Santa, but less patient.
And I have to keep checking with myself to see if it's sunk in yet. (It hasn't). After three years of trying and a lifetime of dreaming, I'm pregnant. I'm embarrassed to admit that almost every day I'm tempted to take another pregnancy test, just to see those two pink lines again and again. And somehow, it's my reaction to that temptation that sums up infertility better than any words I can ever put together. Aside from that first bold day, I haven't taken another at home test...no matter how badly I want to see those two lines. I have a beta of 15,172, and I'm scared of the stupid pee stick.
Infertility, let's break up. I hate your guts, and you have bad breath. You terrify me. Your farts smell like rotting dead skunk.
I refuse to let you define me.
Monday, July 14, 2008
now
Dear Thailand,
Please send some delicious recipes and food. I would particularly enjoy learning all of your secrets for tangy and tantalizing soup.
Love and kisses,
Baby Purinton
p.s. feed me. feed me. feed me.
This is what's going on in my belly. Well, actually my uterus. Apparently my child has inherited my sweet husband's appetite and quite the little palate for Thai food. I cannot, cannot, cannot get enough Thai food into my belly. I've taken to making up my own Thai recipes. And gourmet that I may be, I am no expert on Thai. I'm considering chaining myself to the takeout counter at Siam Orchid.
What else is new...
Have I mentioned that I am pregnant? And that a strange woman in a public restroom asked me when I'm due this weekend? To which I sheepishly responded, I'm due in MARCH.
So okay, I'm slightly huge. And LOVING it.
Maybe it's all the Thai. Or pseudo Thai, if you count the dishes I've made.
And I'm exhausted, blissfully so. And the way I'm peeing, you could stick me in a pond like a makeshift water pump. Suck it in, put those kidneys to work, send it back out. Suck it in, kidneys, out. In, kidneys, out. In, kidneys, out.
And I'd by lying if I didn't admit that there's a part of me that's terrified. Because five weeks in, and I'm head over heels in love with the sweet and beautiful little life growing inside my body. And so desperately I want this magic, this miracle, to continue.
Infertility is a stubborn bastard. I've reached where I thought I might never reach. And here I am, in love and vulnerable. And terrified that this bliss will be ripped away.
So this is my moment. Full of Thai addictions, full of pregnant bliss, full of love, fully aware that I live this all with guarded caution.
Please send some delicious recipes and food. I would particularly enjoy learning all of your secrets for tangy and tantalizing soup.
Love and kisses,
Baby Purinton
p.s. feed me. feed me. feed me.
This is what's going on in my belly. Well, actually my uterus. Apparently my child has inherited my sweet husband's appetite and quite the little palate for Thai food. I cannot, cannot, cannot get enough Thai food into my belly. I've taken to making up my own Thai recipes. And gourmet that I may be, I am no expert on Thai. I'm considering chaining myself to the takeout counter at Siam Orchid.
What else is new...
Have I mentioned that I am pregnant? And that a strange woman in a public restroom asked me when I'm due this weekend? To which I sheepishly responded, I'm due in MARCH.
So okay, I'm slightly huge. And LOVING it.
Maybe it's all the Thai. Or pseudo Thai, if you count the dishes I've made.
And I'm exhausted, blissfully so. And the way I'm peeing, you could stick me in a pond like a makeshift water pump. Suck it in, put those kidneys to work, send it back out. Suck it in, kidneys, out. In, kidneys, out. In, kidneys, out.
And I'd by lying if I didn't admit that there's a part of me that's terrified. Because five weeks in, and I'm head over heels in love with the sweet and beautiful little life growing inside my body. And so desperately I want this magic, this miracle, to continue.
Infertility is a stubborn bastard. I've reached where I thought I might never reach. And here I am, in love and vulnerable. And terrified that this bliss will be ripped away.
So this is my moment. Full of Thai addictions, full of pregnant bliss, full of love, fully aware that I live this all with guarded caution.
Monday, July 7, 2008
2WW to 2 PINK LINES
I am pregnant.
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD I AM PREGNANT.
The last 24 hours of the 2WW were the worst. I started prepping for the let down and realized what a let down it would be.
I couldn't bring myself to cheat and test on my own...terrified of the result.
So I waited until the nurse called me.
That poor nurse has probably lost hearing in whichever ear was next to the phone, as I demurely responded to her "Congratulations" with, "I'M PREGNANT? HOLY CRAP! OH MY GOD! HOLY CRAP I'M PREGNANT!!!!!!"
And then I made my way to my stash of pee sticks, and I peed like I've never peed before.
Two beautiful, lovely, longed for pink lines.
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD I AM PREGNANT.
The last 24 hours of the 2WW were the worst. I started prepping for the let down and realized what a let down it would be.
I couldn't bring myself to cheat and test on my own...terrified of the result.
So I waited until the nurse called me.
That poor nurse has probably lost hearing in whichever ear was next to the phone, as I demurely responded to her "Congratulations" with, "I'M PREGNANT? HOLY CRAP! OH MY GOD! HOLY CRAP I'M PREGNANT!!!!!!"
And then I made my way to my stash of pee sticks, and I peed like I've never peed before.
Two beautiful, lovely, longed for pink lines.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
2WW=Guaranteed Insanity
I have developed multiple personalities.
I can't lie about that.
I can lie about that if I want to.
That's a lie.
What happened to my sandy-footed hope?
Maybe I should take a test. Maybe the test will be negative. If the test is negative, I'll be even crazier from now until Monday.
But maybe I should take a test. Maybe the test will be positive. If the test is positive, I'll be happy and glowing from now until Monday.
If it rains tonight, does that mean I'm pregnant?
Has the world shifted off its axis? Does our globe now rotate around me and my maybe-baby?
Damn my acupuncturist for taking a vacation. I'm an addict and I need a fix. I wonder if safety pins would do the trick...
Maybe I should pee on a stick.
I won't pee on a stick.
I can't lie about that.
I can lie about that if I want to.
That's a lie.
What happened to my sandy-footed hope?
Maybe I should take a test. Maybe the test will be negative. If the test is negative, I'll be even crazier from now until Monday.
But maybe I should take a test. Maybe the test will be positive. If the test is positive, I'll be happy and glowing from now until Monday.
If it rains tonight, does that mean I'm pregnant?
Has the world shifted off its axis? Does our globe now rotate around me and my maybe-baby?
Damn my acupuncturist for taking a vacation. I'm an addict and I need a fix. I wonder if safety pins would do the trick...
Maybe I should pee on a stick.
I won't pee on a stick.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
I have a slippery pulse.
That is what my acupuncturist says.
And that, my friend, is a good thing.
For those of you less inclined to stick needles into your flesh, acupuncturists use the pulse as the primary way to diagnose and treat patients. The slippery pulse is often the earliest sign of pregnancy in Traditional Chinese Medicine.
My pulse is slippery.
Driving home from her office, I encountered my first pregnancy test craving. Then I let it go.
And it sounds dramatic, now, because the next thing I knew, I was surrounded by sweet and gentle hope.
Not the anxious, hungry, yearning hope for things like raises and good weather. Instead, the hope you feel when you've driven a long way to the ocean, and finally step out of the car onto the soft damp sand. Sunlight cresting on the horizon, spilling over and over again onto the brilliant water.
My feet are in the sand. My pulse is slippery.
And that, my friend, is a good thing.
For those of you less inclined to stick needles into your flesh, acupuncturists use the pulse as the primary way to diagnose and treat patients. The slippery pulse is often the earliest sign of pregnancy in Traditional Chinese Medicine.
My pulse is slippery.
Driving home from her office, I encountered my first pregnancy test craving. Then I let it go.
And it sounds dramatic, now, because the next thing I knew, I was surrounded by sweet and gentle hope.
Not the anxious, hungry, yearning hope for things like raises and good weather. Instead, the hope you feel when you've driven a long way to the ocean, and finally step out of the car onto the soft damp sand. Sunlight cresting on the horizon, spilling over and over again onto the brilliant water.
My feet are in the sand. My pulse is slippery.
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