Here's what I've decided.

I refuse to accept defeat.
This is my little poppy and I'm not going to accept anything less than a perfect pregnancy from here on out.

Here is the story. I have been spotting on and off since the very beginning of this pregnancy. At first I didn't think anything of it. It was light and was really only pinkish. And it's really quite common during the first few days of pregnancy. Then it changed to bright, scary red. But it's only on the TP, never any more than a very little bit. And despite the increase, my numbers keep going up, up, up. So really, what am I worried about?

Plus, boobs bigger? Check! Sore? Well, sort of, but they never were. So check! Nausea? Well, no. But then again it's early and morning sickness doesn't usually start this early. Food aversions? Oh CHECK! Big, ginormous check! (For the record, Poppy doesn't do too much cheese, zucchini, green beans, or malted milk balls.) Hungry? Check, check, check! Which doesn't help when nothing sounds good. (oh, except milk. YUM!) Tired? There isn't a check mark big enough and I'm not even sure "tired" is an accurate description. Mood swings? Ok, well this isn't a fair one. I'm the queen of mood swings. But Ok, I'll bite. Check.

So we had our ultrasound yesterday. And it was a mixed bag. Oh wait. It was great! I'm only giving good news from now on because this baby WILL be ok. I just know it. (Ah well, now I'm tearing up. What mood swings?) So at the ultrasound, all they could see was the little gestational sack. But I'm only roughly 5 weeks, so that's not unexpected. In fact, it's a reach to say I was even a full 5 weeks on tuesday. I'm fairly certain I ovulated on August 5th (hey, we infertiles can often time it to the minute...) but that doesn't mean I conceived on the 5th. So a gestational sack at late 4 weeks/early 5 weeks is just fine. And it was where it belongs! Which, for the record, is the uterus. Rather than say, my ear. Or fallopian tube. So that's a good thing! And, the best news of all--they can find NO source of bleeding in my uterus. And none in my cervix either. The only source of bleeding they could actually find was some irritation on my cervix. And my cervix was closed. All of that is the best they could possibly hope for this early.

I'll have a repeat ultrasound on Tuesday (which should be late 5 weeks/early 6). At that point, we'll be looking to see a little fetal pole (Poppy is a pole dancer!) Ok. Not really. The fetal pole is actually the little baby. They should also see a yolk sac (mmmm...Poppy loves eggs!) which nourishes the little poppy. I'd LOVE to see a heartbeat. Honestly, I could use some prayers for a good, strong heartbeat. So please send some up for me, the HG, and our little Poppy. We're really quite attached (some of us more literally than others....) to the little guy.

And you know what? Positive thinking is really the way to work this. Earlier today I told this same story to my mother, with a lot more doom and gloom. And wow. It put me in a bad mood. So not having that. Poppy needs a happy place to live.

So I'm about to go feed the Poppy something yummy (not sure what that'll be yet. I'm only good for deciding on food about 3 or 4 minutes in advance. And by the time it gets to my plate, I'm no longer interested....) and celebrate good thesis news with the HG!

Wait, don't I get 12 years?

Seriously. I thought your children weren't supposed to give you sleepless nights until they were almost teenagers.

This one has only been around for like 12 days and it's already keeping me up at night. I've had some red spotting--the scary kind they tell you you don't want to see--so I'm having an early ultra sound in the morning. I'll only be 5 weeks, so there isn't much they'll be able to tell me. Just that my little poppy is still in there and safe. Or maybe that poppy has a friend in there. Wouldn't that be something?

Twins is a bit of a stretch for a girl with one good fallopian tube and an ovary that doesn't like to ovulate, but my numbers have been reasonably good, so doc says there's a chance. Hmmmm....maybe the blood was the two of them duking it out for the best view. Or if there's only one, maybe poppy was just haning up some pictures and curtains to settle in for the long haul.

I'm not really in the mood to blog. I'm just scared. I want my poppy(ies) to be OK. Please pray.

OH, did I mention?

In addition to a new poppy, we're buying a house. The HG and I are on a life changing roll!

Check out the pictures of our new pad. http://picasaweb.google.com/idkmybffk8/House
Fancy, huh? Ok, not so fancy, but perfect for us and our new little family!

We close September 30th and barring a total collapse of the mortgage industry, we should be good to go! And frankly, if the entire mortgage industry collapses, well, not getting our house is really the least of our worries. Just sayin. (Note to Freddie and Fannie--hang in there! You can do it! Do they have progesterone for mortgage lenders???)

So many happy changes make me nervous. I know, I need to focus on the positive, not the negative. I know that. But still, after many false starts, it's hard to believe this is really happening. This is the third house we've tried to buy. We lost the first 2 after inspection. Apparently a cracked foundation and bad electrical="move in ready!". I suppose if you want your house to collapse in a fiery mess, that's not so bad. The HG and I are more high maintenance than that. You know, we have this thing about safety. Crazy kids.

Now that the house and the baby are happening, I'm just nervous. I'm not sure how to handle all this good news. And does good news get balanced with bad news? I mean, I also recently got a raise and a promotion. Is this too good for one person? The paranoid crazy bitch in me is spinning out of control. Is it fair for me to get what I want in such a short period of time? Is it a disaster waiting to happen?

For the record, I am unbelievably happy about this pregnancy, the new house, and the job. I feel so incredibly blessed right now. The HG and I have been blessed beyond my wildest expectations. But I guess I don't know how to NOT worry. For years I've worried for the 2 weeks after I O'd...would **this** be our cycle? And then it wasn't. And I'd spend the next 2 weeks worrying about when I'd O, what was wrong with me, would it ever happen... The worry was never ending. And then, it finally WAS our cycle. And it ended before I had a chance to enjoy it. So I think it's just so normal for me to worry, I don't know how not to.

But I'm working on it. I repeat 1st Samuel 1:27 to myself all the time: I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him. (NIV) It's become my mantra. So much so that I want to name the baby Sam--Samantha or Samuel. And I'm going to stencil it in the nursery. I cannot express how blessed I feel. I just wish my joy could over come the worry. With every passing day, it gets a little better. My mother says it will never end. Hmmm...do you suppose the Donster still worries about me? I hope so. Mom, if you're reading this, hi, can you worry about this one for me? It's exhausting. Plus, I have to save up my worry. This little poppy is going to need me to screw him up once he's here...I mean, I didn't send my RE to Aruba, I'm going to have to do my part to keep the medical community in vacations, so it's only fair that I make sure my kids need years and years of therapy. And if I keep up this whole worry thing, I'm going to be wicked successful. (note to therapists: you're welcome.)

Oh! There's a thought. I can't give my worry to my mom...but I'm sure I can give it to God. He can have it. He's like, WAY bigger than me. Despite my big swimmer's shoulders (and occasional fashion faux pas with shoulder pads...), my shoulders simply can't handle all the worry. And His are specifically designed to handle my worries. So I'm over it.

For now.

But, despite my fears, I'm loving this pregnancy thing.
Me to HG: "I'm thirsty"
HG: "Oh yeah?"
Me: "Yeah."
HG: "Juice?"
Me:"Yes please."
Ahhhhh. I can finally be waited on. Next time I'm gonna test the waters on having him run to the store of something we don't have....like guava nectar and lobster.
Bwah hahaha.

So I have news.

I'm pregnant.
Me.
I'M
PREGNANT.

Take THAT Baby Nazi.

So, the logical question is: how did that happen?
Well, kids. When a man and a woman love each other very much, sometimes they do a special hug. And if they do the special hug at the right time, sometimes the woman gets pregnant.

Rough translation: we did this one on our own! No needles. No monitoring. No egg retrieval. No embryo transfer. We did it the old fashioned way. Bow chika wow wow... The HG is so proud of himself. His guys can swim and you'd think he taught them himself based on the way he struts around the house. I suppose sometimes it's the little things.

Speaking of little things, right now my little miracle is the size of a poppy seed. I wonder if it would test positive for opiates right now. Note to poppy seed: drugs are bad. Except progesterone. Progesterone is good. Very good. It keeps the little poppy seed right where it should be! Growing big and strong in mommy's uterus.

Of course, progesterone isn't all kicks. First of all, it's icky. I mean, it's not exactly a pill I swallow...it's more like one that gets up close and personal with my cervix. Yum. You should not eat it. So it's in my body and it warms up and melts. And well. Ick.

Secondly, it can cause some spotting. Which freaks me out every time. But it's not unheard of since the cervix is such a sensitive part of the body. It doesn't take much to irritate it. And when it gets irritated, it bleeds ever so slightly. Funny, because when I get irritated, I yell. And not ever so slightly, either. Though I guess if the alternative is bleeding, a little yelling isn't so bad. Imagine if instead of yelling at Macy's employees (bad, bad Kate, you so lose Karma points), I bled all over them? Um. I'm sure that would earn me a trip to the exit door escorted by the mall's finest rent a cops.

Speaking of mall rent-a-cops at our mall have taken to riding Segway. Ok, seriously, not to judge or anything, but the already have the easiest job in the world. I mean, what, chasing down the occasional shop lifter or breaking up fights between pre-pubescent boys? Not exactly the most taxing job. I think it would be a harder job if they had to walk around the mall with a pre-teen girl. For that, they'd deserve a medal. Or at least the right to ride their little scooters. But seriously, the biggest crime at this mall is someone taking an extra refill from the soda fountain at the Quiznos. Ok, so it's a big mall. I will grant them that. And we recently had a movie filmed there where the mall security guards (would it be more politically correct if I called them "security engineers" what about "contracted security engineers"?) rode around on Segways. So Ok, I get that now the security engineers at our mall fancy themselves as famous...after all, they did hobnob with the rich and famous recently, which clearly makes them important by extension. However, the only thing riding around in scooters is doing is extending their backsides. Seriously, I swear, I saw at least three of them today who were bursting out of their pants. I love a man in uniform as much as the next girl, but either the morning sickness is kicking in or that makes me want to toss my cookies. My money is on the latter.

Anyway, I'm tired and my wit is low this evening. And so Poppy and I are headed to bed!

Why no blog?

I know, I know. Long time since I blogged.
Life has been crazy busy.
And now what I want to blog about, I can't. Yet.

Hopefully there will be a happy updated tomorrow night. :)