And measuring exactly that, with a visible heartbeat of 140bpm.  I can’t complain about that.  The other small sac seems to have been reabsorbed already…and while I definitely still harbor sadness over that, I was happy to see what I saw.  I will call around to find an OB later…only a few more blood draws until I am officially “graduated” it seems.  Holy.effing.scary.  Last babies died actually while I was still under the care of my previous RE last year–after the final ultrasound, though before the final progesterone check.  But we didn’t find out until 2 and a half weeks after that, at first OB appt.  So I asked Dr IVF if it would be insane of me to expect to get my next ultrasound with an OB ASAP…and he said with my history, not insane at all.  I love that he supported me in my insanity.


I felt eerily calm on my way to the city late this morning.  P was home with a babysitter which makes the trip so much easier–no lunch, no pullups, no wipes, no dvd players, no dvds, no snacks, no books, no jacket, no sippy cups-that-wont-spill-on-the-dvd-player…no one to shhhhuush on the train when he gets excited…no 30 lbs to haul around when he gets tired, no panic that someone wants my adorable blond haired, blue-eyed monster…and no one to yell at us from the backseat on the way back (train in, lift with T back home).  Yet, of course, I missed him.


While on the train, I heard a mom call out at one point, “P….!”  as a boy walked past my seat.  I looked up, and swear to pete that I saw my future.  Mom could be me in ten years…and though her son was probably around 14 or so…I just thought, that could be me, me and my P, that could be our future, and I could be happy with that.  I made up the story of him being her only child, and they were going into the city to spend the day together during spring recess–I made their story into my story.  And I can make my happiness with that.  Me and my boy.  I thought, so whatever happens, today, I can handle it.  I can get through it.  I’m a big, tough girl (that makes me sound like an 18 wheeler.  I’m more like an adult, strong girl, I guess).  I think that was a sign for me (of course, I also welled up when the police officer directing traffic on the corner of 56th and 2nd helped move the cars so an ambulance could get through the intersection.  Huh?  Tear-inducing?  Right.  Nonsensical.  But I’m naturally a weepy sentimental person.  Hormones just make me ragin’).


So now I just wait.  And try to be hopeful.  We keep asking the little bean to please stick around.  I hope he decides to listen.  Although I know, whatever happens, I can handle it.

2 Comments, Comment or Ping

  1. You are wearing the big girl pants. Great attitude and I am just so happy for you. xoxo

    April 2nd, 2010

  2. congratulations! and you are not insane. your story is finally getting started!

    stick around, lil guy! i’m rooting for both of you!

    April 3rd, 2010

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