So much can happen in a month.
Life slowly got back to normal. Started feeling less sore.
Went back to work, and started working on generating my own clients. Re-joined Curves.
After the mid-February surgical follow up, the OB scheduled a date in April that we were to have the final surgery followup, and then, ideally, get the green light to start trying again.
Last week, my period was due. Had bad cramps for three days, but no period. I just thought my body was playing tricks on me and getting back to normal after the surgery and stress. By Thursday night, I thought I should pick up a pregnancy test, just to ease my mind. After all, I was paying attention to my dates to ensure that there was no sex during any possible time of fertility (although disregarding my pledge to the doc that we'd actually use protection while I was healing). Friday morning, I wake up to still no period. It's early, and I'm not sleeping well and my allergies are awful. So, it's 6:30am, and I take the first pregnancy test in the two-pack. Positive. Decide that I'll try again after I shower. Positive. Pregnant!
Panic. Of course we wanted to start trying as soon as the doctor says I can, but we are about 3 weeks early! I began to imagine every worst-case scenario including a uterine blow-out at the surgery site or the doc saying it's too early and we have to terminate. I crawl into bed to wake the hubby to tell him, tearfully.
Coincidentally, neither of us remember having sex since 3/13, the day of my last cycle...so we actually get up, head to the home office, to look at the calendar and try to figure when we actually could have conceived this baby. We arrived at the Friday or Saturday before Easter. Who knew? Neither of us remember!
Why is it that every woman I know has described a similar scenario when they tell the father to be of their pregnancy. Even the most educated and sensitive men seem to have this caveman moment, that almost instinctual, "Me make baby. My sperm strong." moment. Hubby says, "Damn I'm good," and proceeds to kiss my forehead, and we snuggle in bed for a while.
I realize I have to get to work which is now a family-friendly three blocks from my house, and leave, intending to call the OB when I get to work to see if they want to move up my appointment with the doc, which I seem to think is at the end of April. I decide that a little McDonald's is an okay treat, so I hit the drive thru for a mcmuffin meal. When I get to work, I realize they threw in an extra hash brown, and decide that's a good sign, one for the baby!
At work, I look through my wallet for the appointment card, find it and learn that my OB appointment was that day! I call the hub and we decide it is another positive sign.
Scary bit: the ultrasound showed a small (15mm by 16mm) fibroid, but the nurse said it was not near where the baby would be. I immediately tear up, and fill with fear that this fibroid will exponentially grow and crowd out the baby, just like last time. But, I can't dwell on that.
Hopefully, I'll get an ultrasound at every visit to keep an eye on the fibroid. That's one benefit of a higher risk pregnancy--lots of ultrasounds!
Due date looks to be 12/17/08.
So, I'm 4 weeks pregnant and have already told half the universe. We are having a few couples over for dinner tonight and it will be obvious that there's a reason that I'm not drinking...
In a social setting, I'm always drinking. When you have a husband who doesn't drink very often, it just tends to work out that way. This pregnancy will be a nice break for my liver.
Anyway, our network of friends and family already were with us through the worst pregnancy news last year, so why not keep them informed of the good news.
Truth is, I can't keep a secret. Hubby's like a vault. His parents will probably find out when I'm in labor. I would have told the mailman if I saw him today!