15w6d

Well, so far so good. I'm pregnant. I'm wearing maternity trousers, mostly, although still in normal tops and jackets and dresses. Until last weekend I was wearing pre-pregnancy jeans although the ones with stretch only. I regularly check Sib with the doppler, and can find the heartbeat every time, although Sib seems to move around quite a lot and not be mad keen on being measured. I saw my OB 10 days ago, and he doesn't want to see me again until 20 weeks unless I need reassurance. But since I have my trusty doppler there isn't much point in that. I haven't even booked the 20 week scan yet. Not sure why.

Often I forget I'm pregnant. And then I suddenly feel ravenous and remember. And eat something, anything, just to get rid of the feeling. In the middle of a cold snap, I've been craving salads. The crunch and the clean taste have been all I've really wanted to eat. Until H cooked a big pot of a Nigel Slater bean dish with coconut milk, spices and lime juice last night and I wolfed down two portions. It was delicious, but there again, there's that citrus-y clean taste. I don't remember this particular need when I was pregnant with Pob, it seems to be specific to this pregnancy.

I nearly wrote 'to this baby' but then I stopped myself.

I've told the powers that be at work that I'm pregnant. Mostly people have been delighted for us, it's just the local big guy who was distinctly ambivalent. Since he doesn't have much to do with how I'm evaluated that's probably fine and I probably just caught him at a bad moment, but given he knows some of our back story I was a little disappointed. Perhaps I'm just no longer the high flier I was and therefore less interesting to him. Either way, I was glad that straight after the conversation with him I had a great session with another senior colleague who offered me a bunch of very practical advice on how to manage this leave, and was thrilled for us, which made me feel less concerned about my professional future - or rather, just as concerned, but with a good sense of how to manage it.

One of those funny-ha-ha but not really moments happened the weekend before my birthday. H organised for us to go away to a fancy hotel for the weekend, while his parents looked after Pob. Really, given I'm working full time, I'm not that keen on leaving Pob, but he organised it as a surprise so I said lovely thank you and threw myself into it. On the Saturday night we got chatting to a family who were sitting around after dinner near us. A family of two parents and one very sweet, incredibly well-behaved little boy, who was perhaps around 8 years old. We said our daughter was with her grandparents and the little boy solmenly berated us, saying: "you know they really like children here and you can order anything you like and they'll make it for you, your daughter should be here!" And I silently agreed with him. H then volunteered that we were expecting another baby (I have no idea why) and the father joked "you guys need to get a television!" We laughed and just continued to chat on other topics.

I was in a mellow enough mood that I didn't feel any need to correct his assumption that this was a lucky accident or a bit of silly planning on our part, to explain that we didn't have much choice in the timing, but it did raise for me, as it has done for many of you who've been lucky enough to come out of infertility with a 'normal' number of children, that probably people will no longer look at us and see the possibility that we struggled to get here. And it really will be a case of too much information if I try to explain that or add it into the conversation. Obviously in some situations I explain and I always volunteer the miscarriage thing in particular when it happens to friends or colleagues who don't already know it, but in social situations it just sometimes isn't appropriate. And that feels odd. It's been my life since 2004. Now that I'm part way to having two children, what is my future identity other than 'mother' 'professional' (which broadly does not come into the blogosphere), and perhaps 'wife'? I know we all know the scars of infertility will be there forever, although I also know that for me they have faded considerably over the last 16 months. But I'm not really infertile any more, am I? At least not in how the world sees me.

Let's see. We'll not count any chickens or determine any future identities just yet. They will be emergent.

Comments

[sarah]

enjoy those comfy pants. i'm still wearing mine!

totally relate on the identity issue. i'm having a very weird time with being a mother and an ART patient at once; those things just always seemed to be worlds apart for me. all my defenses against cycling were built around being childless, and now i'm going back into it with a heart opened up by babylove. rather scary.

[Emma B]

I have three children under 2.5, and people now tend to assume the third wasn't planned. It's very different from after the girls, when even random strangers often asked if they were infertility babies because of the twin thing.

Your identity will shift, I think -- at least, mine has. The scars don't go away, but it's no longer a daily thing when your family is complete, and when your world focuses more on toddlers and preschoolers than on pregnancies and babies.

[www.google.com/accounts/o8/id?id=AItOawmlduE8IrP0Gk2yUKsc7aIj_0ZPrnluu1w]

OK, I'm not sure how this new sign-in works, but I guess at one level (as with people who have adopted two children close in age) it's none of their business, but you could always drop in something that kind of trails off like "at my age you don't want to wait..."

(this is Dr Spouse by the way as it won't let me sign in with my Blogger username)

[www.google.com/accounts/o8/id?id=AItOawlpkAZEoZtvyYqBCXkIlcO6jx1I3mL6wvU]

Okay, your sign-in is umm, odd? Like Dr.Spouse this might not look like my signature.

Anyway, Aurelia here, and I just wanted to say that, yes, people do look at you like you are "normal" and you will not match their idea of what an infertile is, but you can find ways of letting people know what they need to know.

Like when people ask if Julius was planned because he came along so much later, I silently think, "you rude tithead", then out loud say, "Well, he was unexpected, but he was the long hoped for miracle baby. We're just so incredibly happy he made it!" And if they take the bait, fine, and if not, they can just say, "Oh, how nice."

So for you, just think up a line like that!

[angela]

While pregnant with my daughter (after 7 miscarriages) I never knew how to answer the question "is this your first?". I felt that to say "yes" was betraying the memory of the ones I lost, but to say "no, it's my 8th, but the others didn't survive", made people very uncomfortable and stammer "oh..." and back away. It always felt like I was sharing too much information. I also had a hard time relating to other pregnant women. I didn't feel that I shared the same experience. I don't think the wounds of IF ever completely heal, but most people I encounter think that having a child should just erase all the bad memories. I love my daughter and I am so grateful for her, but having her doesn't make me think about the others any less.

[Betty M]

Glad things are all well with Sib.
My IF has always been between me, the husband and the internet plus one RL friend so my infertility scars have always been well hidden. They have lessened but they are still there - it is like a grief reaction in a way. It ebbs and flows with time and circumstance. By contrast I have always been upfront about the miscarriages and difficult pregnancies.
I have given up reacting to people's silly comments. All the jokes about how given L and Z's birthdays are a week apart on the calendar how there must be some special date in February. I still get asked about having more - I just bat that off with an "I'm way too old" but it gives me a pang.

[May]

You mean... if my H and I got rid of the wide-screen TV we'd...

Argh.

Somebody at work asked me a couple of months ago if I had kids, and when I said 'no' chuckled and said 'very wise.' I suddenly had to go to the loo and stay there for a good twenty minutes.

I am delighted everything has gone well so far. Long may it continue.

[Hairy Farmer Family]

The trusty doppler indeed! I went through three tubes of gel with Harry. So pleased that things are going well for you.

I was thinking about the whole post-children IF self-labelling issue earlier today. I can personally only lay claim to subfertility, as my repro system did eventually do the deed without interference. But that's not to say that it will ever again, of course. I'm not sure at what point of trying for number 2 I can go back to calling myself a good old infertile.

[Drew]

I am not even acknowledging this pregnancy yet and I am already busting out of my shorts (summer weather over here). I am going to rummage through for some loose stuff to wear after writing this.

Good to hear things are going well with you Thalia - it is all good!

I got asked by the blood nurse today if this is my first pregnancy. I told her no, this is my third. But it feels really weird saying that to her and it seems I needn't be in their space (the fertility clinic which my doctor operates) or use their services. Even if it was just a blood test. But I did. I really did and for many years I was there. Infertility has given me a lot of baggage, and reflects on my parenting and how I see myself and others.

[Clover]

Glad things are going well for you. People tend to assume that the twins were unexpected and oh jeez, I bet you never expected that. And it does become a bit too much info to volunteer, no, I knew it might be part of the cards someday. But you are right, it is weird, particularly when I've had several people ask me how I'm doing "with all those kids." Like I have 15 or something, instead of 3.

[Amyesq]

Poor May up there!^^ I was at a cocktail party once and someone said almost the exact same thing to me when I said we had no children. I think it was, "You're lucky!" and I actually responded with, "Well, actually we just found out that the third IVF didn't work today so, no, I don't think I would consider myself very lucky." Of course the woman was HORRIFIED and apologized all over the place. More importantly, however, I am thinking she learned never to say anything like that again and send some other poor soul to the loo.

A TV indeed....

[Alex]

Yeah ... if you can stand it and find a way to do it I'm all in favor of letting people know, actually, as an educational thing. I don't tell absolutely everyone that #1 is an IVF baby and I'll be phenomenally lucky ... no, beyond phenomenally ... if there ever is a #2, but (again, if you can stand it), something like, "Well, we waited a long, long time for our first child and are very grateful to be expecting another," or, once Sib is here, "We feel very fortunate, as we struggled to have children for many years," or something like that might be a good reminder/educator for some folks...

[Susanna]

Hi, I'm reading your blog for the first time. After skimming through it, I'm so happy for you to have made it to 16 weeks. I had a hard time staying "cautiously optimistic" with my own high-risk pregnancy; it seemed I was either elated or panic-stricken, or still in disbelief that I was even pregnant (for all 27 weeks)-- the Zen-like acceptance of "what will be" was lost on me. So, I know it isn't as simple as saying, "hooray! 16 weeks!" but I can't help myself..... Really really happy for you.

[Spanglish]

I still wear my maternity "lounge" outfits, but I wear them as pajamas... and as recuperation clothes.

You'll be in full maternity-wear in no time. Congratulations on the 16 week mark.

I'm at a new site now... www.whatskinnyjeans.blogspot.com

[Nikole Sarvay]

So glad things are going well with Sib. Thinking of you.

[Bea]

Yeah, I know - it's hard to throw it into a conversation without having to get all serious all of a sudden, and bleh. And this, I guess, is how it gets forgotten in society.

Bea