What’s in a name?

Most people refer to the room in their house where a sleeping baby lies as the nursery. This seems to be a pretty common occurrence. Some people who are convinced of their uber-fertility in the world will even start referring to a room in the house as the nursery long before a child has ever been conceived. I have friends who used this term from the day they bought their house. It always made me nervous because I knew that there was always a chance that something could go amiss (and this was before I ever started trying- long before I knew about my own infertility). I just became nervous when I would hear them talk about the nursery in matter-of-fact terms. Thankfully, they only had to “stop not trying” for one month to conceive their beautiful son. At that point, I had already been trying for a year and a half but had kept the news from most people. I was thinking to confide in my friend, wondering if she was experiencing the same thing, when she called me with her good news. At that point, I kept my mouth shut about my own problems because I didn’t want her to have to censor her words. I was genuinely happy for her and wanted to hear every little detail that she would share.

But back to the “N” word. I reached the 23-week mark today. Pretty damn good for an infertile who was 100% convinced that her IVF would never work. I get it that I am very lucky. But I am also so convinced that calling a particular room in our house the nursery before there is a living, breathing baby is going to cause the bowels of the earth to swallow up my dreams. I still call it the extra room. To get even crazier, I have even purchased items for said “extra room” and have no mental objection to taking that kind of action. But calling it a nursery just seems unnatural.

I’m looking forward to painting so that I can call the room by its color.

You can take the infertile off of the island, but you can’t take away her infertility.

Creepy Commercial

I was minding my own business, watching the Apprentice (the only reality TV show I tolerate), and cutting up little pieces of fabric when out of the blue I saw the creepiest commercial.

A group of boys playing in the park looks up to see a minivan pull up- ok, innocent enough so far. Music is playing…I recognize it as “Stacey’s Mom” by Fountains of Wayne. Excellent, I think, the music doesn’t suck.

The driver (mom to one of the kids, we assume) gets out and is shown in slow motion sauntering over toward the boys, a knowing smile on her lips. She stops and pushes the button on the automatic side door opener over her shoulder and the van opens. Inside, we find a cooler full of big-name soft drink.

The boys run to the van, grab a soda, and stand around oogling this mom. Mom stands there with a soda, too, and gives what I thought was a not so innocent look back to the boys. It was then that I thought- “Oh my God, those poor kids have just been lured into the hands of Mrs. Robinson!”

Maybe it was the package of the visual with the music- I don’t know. But I really did find it creepy.

Did anyone else see it?

Enviable dilemma

I’m dealing with a bit of a dilemma right now, and before I continue I will acknowledge that it is a dilemma that many people would give a limb to experience. I know that. But, it still doesn’t make it any less of a dilemma for me, so I will continue.

I mentioned in an earlier post that we are still actively volunteering for the agency through which we want to pursue an adoption. They know fully about our pregnancy and are thrilled that we will continue to work with them. In fact, one of the coordinators went so far as to insist that our biological child would be treated as a big part of the agency family (family is truly the only word to describe it)- they can’t wait for him or her to get here.

So, here is my dilemma.

I have always been involved in the “visible” volunteer activities. Working with committees on fundraising, for example. The cycle of fundraising is starting up again, and I’m torn about how to approach the situation. In a short enough time, word will either spread about my pregnancy, or it will become glaringly obvious. (Right now I am at the in between stage where people that know me well would see a pregnant belly, people who know me less well might see a fat belly. You would be stuck in the “is she?” discussion if you saw me walk past at the market- especially in my “stealth” maternity garb.) So, if I step back from the visible activities for a while, it will appear as though I have abandoned the group in lieu of my bio-kid. However, I also worry that if I stay on the committees I will be viewed as insensitive because I am flaunting my pregnant self to a bunch of infertile people. Either way I am screwed.

I tried to view it from my prepregnancy perspective. I would have been happy for the person, but there would have also been a side that thought “why not me?” I was never bothered by the presence of pregnant women, but I have friends who walk away if a pregnant woman is present. If some of the people on the committee would be bothered, I would sooner prevent that by disappearing for a while.

And, of course, because I think of the people in this group as a big family, there is a part of me that really wants to share the news with them excitedly because they are so dear to me. It is always nice to share good things with your family.

There it is- the enviable dilemma.

The first of the meetings is coming up in two days, and I am planning to attend. I’m introducing another couple to the group and I want to be there at least for their first meeting. I guess I will play it by ear after that…

Another arrival!

Warm welcome to Hannah Eilene! It's babies aplenty in the blogosphere.

a peek inside

All seems to be going well with the little (or not so little now) bean. A week ago I had my ultrasound in the midst of jet-lag and work crunch, so I’m just getting to the post now. We had opted to skip the blood tests for various markers, knowing that we would not terminate the pregnancy. We’ll just take it as it comes. So, it was nice when they did the scan to know that everything is measuring right on schedule, in fact, it seems that we have a bit of an overachiever who is two days ahead. I know, a whole two days- not earth shattering in the grand scheme of things. So, ultrasound pins me at a due date of May 28, LMP pins me at May 30, and transfer pins me at May 29. At least they can all agree.

We opted to ignore the sex bits, so when May rolls around we’ll all get to know what it is then. I have always wanted to have the moment of someone saying “it’s a…” in the delivery room, and since this will most likely be my only pregnancy, I’m going to get as many perks as possible. A. wanted to know the sex- “to be prepared.” For what? The nursery will be the same regardless (I’ll tell you all about it in a future post) and I prefer gender-neutral clothing at first. Especially given that we plan to have other kids (adopted), and they’ll need to have something to wear, too. (In case you’re wondering, our agency places newborns, so the clothing would actually get another use.)

I was definitely expecting a nice, calm baby in there, because I hadn’t yet felt any movement. Boy, was I ever wrong. It was entirely weird to see the baby moving all over the ultrasound screen, know that it was moving inside of me, and not be able to feel a darn thing. The doctor laughed and said that we had better get a bunch of baby gates for such an active child. However, this past Wednesday, I am pretty sure that I felt the little one move (on a side note, I’m trying to come up with a better reference to the little one). I was sitting at work, writing some e-mail and all of a sudden there was a very distinct flutter about three inches below my navel. It stopped me dead. I sat there for a second to see if another flutter would happen, but no such luck. I felt a couple of things later that evening, and have had the “gas bubbles” sensation a few times each day since. I look forward to every little tickle, bubble, flutter, and twinge. The whole process is simply amazing.

Today was my next check-up, and I was nervous because at the last visit I was given a stern lecture about my weight gain. I’m only allowed to gain two pounds each month and I had gained six. Oops. I made a conscious effort to make sure that I was eating better, not indulging in desserts so often (I am NOT giving them up entirely- I am not made of stone!), and walking more regularly. Well, this time I was actually down a pound. Then, of course, I worried that I had harmed the baby by losing weight. No, everything is fine, especially since I gained too much last time. Pfffhew!

The heartbeat today was cool because it sounded less muffled and more like a mature heart. BA-DUM, BA-DUM, BA-DUM, BA-DUM…

I must go and have lunch. Baby wants stuffed hot peppers!

I'm back!

In all honesty, I returned last week, but things have been a little hectic, to say the least. Not that I have been alone, mind you. Things have certainly been stirring up in the blog community. Before I can be considered too rude a fellow blogger, I must offer the following good wishes:

To Julie on the surprise arrival of little Charlie, who is thankfully now home.

Double blessings came to Tertia on the arrival of Kate and Adam. Please send a little prayer to Adam as he stays a while in the NICU. Kate is home with mom.

A big ol' sloppy one to Jo, who seems to have gotten herself knockered up.

Best wishes to Sherry, who, of course, had to one-up us other infertile preggos and is carrying twins.

A quiet, whispered NBHHY-type wish to Grrl and Sarah.

A salute to Lobster Girl and her little swimmerette.

And, a hearty HURRAH to Karen on having survived not one, but two homestudy visits in as many days. One step closer to Maya!

I know that a few others have things "brewing," and I send them many fertile thoughts as they go under the needle.

I'll write a post on our travels soon- Happy New Year y'all!