Before I got pregnant and before my marriage imploded into the black hole that it is I had thought that it was going to be so exciting to be able to finally blog about the pregnancy.  Something positive. Something good.

Black Hole (from CHANDRA)

There is so much to write about, in detail, yet I choose to sit around filling my time with mindless activities such as riding my bike around town all day in the sun, being social or watching movies (well, can’t do that anymore either as the shitty internet connection at the sublet has become unusable)  rather than deal with the impending things that need dealing with:  separation papers and logistics (You ever try writing a parenting plan before becoming a parent?  It’s ludicrous.), furnishing an apartment NOW, figuring out what a baby needs and how to get it (beg, borrow, buy), finding a doula, finding baby classes, lactation consultant, daycare?!  I got overwhelmed and shut down.  And I’m still doing everything while Husband is off fucking a 27 year old.  He gets to be in denial, I have to do everything.

Plus besides being beyond sad,  I’m pissed off and resentful to find myself in this position after doing what everyone – therapists, friends, strangers, books – told me to do.  Accept Husband for who he is, support his endeavors, do your own things again, let him know when he hurts me, stop expecting things and just let them happen and over time things should get better; he should feel the change.  But no. Instead, Husband decided that he was just going to check out and have an affair.  While we may never work as a couple I really wish that he would take responsibility for his lack of ability to connect with anyone on a meaningful level.

Everyone says that I seem just fine.  Well, I’m not.  I hurt. I’m pissed off. I’m sad. I’m lost.  People just see the side of me that states things in a wry, matter of fact manner which makes them think that everything is ok.  The side of me that says, “I can take care of myself.  I don’t need anyone.”  I don’t know how to let people take care of me really.  They have their own lives – what would they do for me anyway besides listen?  They aren’t going to go to work for me, pay my bills, feed me, write my separation papers for me.  I have to do all that and it’s too much to take in while trying not to obsess about Husband and the Midlife Crisis hence the extensive Netflix watching.

What have I not written about:

• The 20 Week anatomy scan
• Dealing with the asshole that I bought the first Sir Foldy from
• Over analyzing Husband’s communiques from tour
• Seeing Husband upon his return on Labor Day from month long tour with the Midlife Crisis
• Researching doulas and childbirth
• The overnight change from looking “thick” to looking PREGNANT
• Researching baby stuff
• Memory Foam mattress comparison (not as stupid as it sounds)

So while this post isn’t insightful or even very information it is at least a post.  And in order to write more, you must write.  So I’ve written.

These are all the ultrasounds to date.  I think that they are really neat and interesting and in my case miraculous but unlike many women out there I certainly do not think that they are cute.

This is cute – ultrasounds are not.

 
I don’t know if I’ll be able to add images to this gallery, but I’ll deal with that as it comes.

There are so many computer things falling apart in my life, not to mention, well, my whole fucking life sort of falling apart.  But I guess I just need to deal with one problem at a time.  That’s a little difficult when I am balancing an anger that makes me see red and attempting to enjoy the fact that I am pregnant.

Plus, I haven’t really written in a long time and getting the flow and voice down is difficult.

Today’s immediate problem – Questionable Discharge

Why Ruin Good Underwear?

Today was hard.  I was already in a shitty state of mind (when am I not these days?) and I got a little freaked out about discharge.  Yes, vaginal discharge.  From what little reading on pregnancy I’ve actually been doing I know that in the second trimester some women tend to get a slightly heavier discharge.  For me it hasn’t been so bad, a little heavier, but nothing too gross.

But then this morning I felt this, for lack of a better word, gush.  It wasn’t as if I peed my pants but it was just different than the normal “glad I have a lot of granny underwear” moment.

I was already feeling pretty bad because I didn’t sleep well last night.  I had been doing ok yesterday, but somewhere along the line yesterday I decided to be masochistic and looked at TFC’s twitter feed.  Bad move.  She’s decided to be smug and referred to my future ex-husband as her “bf”.  I’m sure she can’t wait for someone to ask her who it is so she can be coy.  Sweetheart, you’re having an affair – it’s not cool.  It was some drivel about losing a hair brush and either getting dreads or waiting until her bf complained.  Now unless he’s drastically changed, he’s not going to say shit about what her hair looks like, but I guess that’s for her to find out.  So the whole thing made me feel like shit and I didn’t get much sleep at all. Yes, I know, step away from the Twitter.

Being late for work and very tired, I decided that the gush was nothing and headed off to midtown.  But mid-morning I felt another small gush, and like the squadrons of women who have gone through any sort of infertility, I headed to the bathroom to take a look.  There was a spot on my underwear but I couldn’t tell if it was the dreaded amniotic fluid leak or just regular discharge.  Part of the problem determining what was going on was because I had just gotten a more painful than usual Brazilian yesterday and the nether regions felt a little tender.  So I did what any normal, slightly paranoid, first-time pregnant woman would do and called the nurse.

I ended up getting squeezed in for an ultrasound in the afternoon so that they could check on The Blob and measure the amniotic fluid.  Any other time I would have been happy to go in for an extra ultrasound but this time I was just too worried to enjoy.  So with my pants down and abdomen covered with goo the technician showed me the heart beat (she said it looked strong), looked around and made a bunch of measurements.  To my untrained eye The Blob looked pretty cramped in there and I couldn’t recognize much (but the spine – weird) but the technician said that all seem to look well to her.  I will call Dr. Z tomorrow to see what he says based on the measurements that were taken, but I gather that no one is too worried.

Despite her moderate reassurances, I don’t think I actually feel any better because my body just feels off today.  Along with the emotional shit, my back aches from sleeping on the airbed at the sublet, I’m feeling dull stretching aches in my abdomen, and I get horrible leg cramps every morning at about 5 am.

But…I can feel him moving about a lot more frequently.  And almost every time I feel a movement I end up talking to him and it makes me smile just a little bit

It’s been a long time since I have posted and there are a lot of very personal reasons for that.

Not what I expected

It’s hard to really know just how much personal information and emotions to post when you are going through a transition period such that I am dealing with.  I wear my heart on my sleeve but have to remember that not everyone 1) wants to hear the sordid details of my life  and 2) understands that venting is not necessarily your true feelings, it is your anger and frustration only.

So as non-emotional as I can make it here’s is what has been happening since February 2010.

• Mar – IVF #4 was a BFN
• Mar – Start taking DHEA
• Apr – Start IUI #1 w/Letrozole
• Apr – Husband says he wants a divorce
• May – I find out I’m PREGNANT!!!
• May – Separation mediation begins
• May – We deal with shit
• June – I find out there’s a third person involved (20 yrs younger than Husband – what a cliché, huh?)
• June – We deal with shit
• July – Have CVS – results are that baby is fine chromosomally and it’s a BOY.
• July (late) – I move to sublet

So that’s about as impersonal as I can make things at the moment.  I have a lot of anger and sadness about the way things are turning out.  I put a lot of effort into my marriage after I realized that we both had commitment and trust problems to deal with.  I’m still dealing with mine and I think that this hurts more than I expected because in 2008 I had made the decision to fully commit (mentally – we’d both not been fully committed mentally) to the marriage and tried to accept Husband for who he was. There are changes in his own life that he needs to makes but I can only want him to change and let him know when his actions hurt me but I cannot make him change.

People keep wondering why I’m so upset about the separation.  I think it’s because I see the good in him despite all the years of dealing with the indifferent and the bad and when I’m with someone, I’m endlessly forgiving.  This doesn’t mean that I forget all the bad stuff but it does mean that I allow it to happen over and over in hopes that it will someday change.  Plus, 11 1/2 year with someone is a long time to get comfortable with things.

I have to admit that I am pretty scared about doing this sort of alone.  Husband is now on board participation-wise but that doesn’t make it any less scary because, barring a huge emotional effort on his part, I am essentially still going at this alone.  I know that there have thousands in my position before me and there will be thousands more after me, but I’m a little scared about being a 41 yr old, first time, single mom.  I’m afraid of failing at child rearing, I’m afraid of never having a relationship again, I’m afraid abotu finances.  But I have a wonderful support network and just have to remember to take things one problem and one joy at a time.

Going forward, I will probably be writing about our separation and the pregnancy and when the time comes (knock on wood), the baby.

(via: The Awl)