Monday, June 8, 2009

Still trucking. Barely.

1. I'm beginning to feel mildly better about the events of Saturday. This is aided by the spotting being just about gone and no unusual cramping or pain to speak of. However, I am totally terrified by the dilation thing. Even though they said it was probably ok, I'm researching cervical insufficiency and trying to figure out how best to keep an eye on the dilation and get it treated (usually with cerclage and bedrest) if necessary. I have a call in to discuss further with the MW and will see what she says and have spent some time looking for an OB that I can see for a second opinion if necessary. I'm trying to be positive, but it's terrifying. Cervical incompetancy is a diagnosis that is generally made after a loss. At least I have a heads up that there may be a potential issue, so it can be monitored and that is what I am trying to focus on. It doesn't help that the signs are literally - vaginal bleeding or spotting, increased discharge - possibly mucuosy, and abdominal pressure. Well, had the weird bleeding, and now feel pressure and notice discharge, but how much of that is hyper-awareness? Trying not to jump the gun here, but . . . well . . . I sort of suck at that.

2. In more reassuring news, vomit. Everywhere. We went out to the Melting Pot and I got my mushrooms and things were pretty good. As soon as we left I started feeling warm and flushed. About halfway home I realized I was going to vomit, the question was when (I was driving). I made it home (with lots of muttered prayers and invectives) and into the back door, stripped, got into the bathroom where my husband handed me a bucket and . . . up came the expensive lunch and the breakfast I'd consumed hours earlier. Very little stayed down.

This morning didn't seem promising, though the Golden Grahams I chanced stayed down. Later on, I tried a muffin and some v8 fusion. Eventually the fusion came back up, though the muffin appears to have settled far enough down that it's going to stay there. For now. And I have officially vomited at work. Yeehaw.

3. I decided, in a weird, round about sort of logical way, that fuck it all, I am not changing my fucking tickers. I don't believe that I got a pregnancy test at 5 dpo, which means that though the little chicken may have taken her sweet time dividing cells or whatever, I have been pregnant for this length of time and damn it, I want some fucking credit for it. I am mindful that the chicken is not quite in line with my ticker, but hell, it's all a guessing game anyway. The chicken could be born at 37 weeks or at 42 weeks, and these four days or so really won't make a big difference. So the hell with it, even if it's just to make myself feel better, I am relieved to be beyond 9w1d, and Friday, the chicken will have hit that benchmark too. Good Enough For Me. It seemed pointless to relive that time given the fact that I have been pregnant this whole time. So why bother?

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