Conflicted

I swore when “our day” came I’d be the girl shouting our news from the rooftops. Turns out, telling people is HARD. Our closest friends and family have been easier to tell because they knew we were going through IVF steps, however I feel like the cat has my tongue with the rest of the world. I’ve yet to tell our Facebook circle. It took me weeks to tell the Poodle followers. I finally shared the news with coworkers when we crossed the 12 week threshold. Is it because I have guilt for all of those couples still trying? I know how hard it can be to hear the words “we are pregnant” from another couple when you’re willing the Universe for it to be your turn. I’ve touched on it in past posts. Infertility is hard emotionally. It’s often difficult for outsiders to comprehend that you CAN in fact be happy for your more fertile friends and family while still crying in your cheerios about your own situation. Or is it that I want to hold this little nugget of joyous news a little tighter to make sure it’s real? I know it’s real. I’ve seen the scans. But a part of me fears saying the words out loud will jinx this little miracle.

In actual updates (I just couldn’t bear to make the last post any longer), I am feeling good. I am grateful for this chance even on days when I’d like nothing more than to curl up on the bathroom floor. I like to think (remind me of this in several months) that even minor discomforts are worth this chance! The nausea has been mostly manageable after a few habit changes. I brush my teeth now BEFORE taking any medicine in the morning, and eat smaller meals more frequently. You learn quickly that digestion does slow waaaaaay down and this is the only way to balance between letting stomach get empty (barf) or sitting with full belly of food (also barf). My energy level is picking back up which is fantastic. There were a few weeks there where as Foxy put it “being awake is hard”. True story. Overnight this weekend, my pants stopped fitting. I’ve actually continued to drop small amounts of weight since our transfer, but the stomach is definitely getting poochier. Poochy Poodle might be more like it these days. Snarky told me we could go shopping, but I am afraid of maternity clothes yet. Word on the street is once you get in those pants you never want to wear real clothes again.

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