Why You Shouldn't Have a Child to Strengthen Your Relationship

I have all these half-started posts in my head, and some in Blogger, but I'm just sort of at a loss these days. I could come in and write a bunch of random stuff, but that seems sort of boring.

One of the things that has occurred to me recently is how hard having a kid is on your marriage. People told me this before, and I always thought - sure, for you guys, but not for us. But eight months in, I have to say, it is really, really tough.

For one thing, when you have a child there's this third person inserted in your relationship. And you love that third person so very, very much. It's not that I love him more than D - it's a totally different kind of love. But right now, at this stage of LM's development, he is just so dependent on me, so his needs come first a lot of the time. Not always, but a lot of the time. And he just needs me so much. And I love being needed like that, but sometimes after spending a whole day taking care of someone else, I do not have a lot left in me for anyone else.

I have been increasingly snappy and short with D. I'm often frustrated when the dishes aren't done, the baby isn't fed at the right time, the clothes are on the floor again. So I am resolving to stop doing this - to be nicer and more patient. But I also do think some of my complaints are valid and that I do need a little more help around the house, so I also need to think of nicer ways to ask D to help. Even when I ask in a nice or patient tone, I feel like I'm constantly nagging. Don't you wish there was a way so that you didn't have to ask? But the reality is, you do have to ask, because he's not always home to notice the cobwebs in the hall or to observe LM is now napping twice a day and not three times.

We had a long talk about all of this today, and that was great. One strength we've always had is communication. (And no, D doesn't read this, although he knows about it, so I am not using it as a passive-aggressive tool to communicate with him.)

Anyway, I'm not sure how eloquent this all is, but I consider myself so lucky to have a husband who does so much, who is a great father, who adores me and his child. We are each other's best friend. And we have a child who has gone from being a fussy, colicky little guy to being the sweetest most happy little boy who is so much fun. But still, it's hard! I hate admitting that - I hate admitting that it's a challenge; it doesn't seem right that something so joyful should be. But it is, for the most mundane reasons.

Heart Over Head

Does it strike you as completely absurd that the most expensive purchase in your life is likely the one where you have the least chance to examine the product? When we bought the place we live in now, I was absolutely in love with it. I pictured us here. We saw three places and made an offer our first day out - it was heart over head all the way. D spent WAY more time agonising over my engagement ring, or his car. I've spent more time picking strollers or jeans. (Egads: just realised how gender-stereotyped my examples are; oh well.)

Luckily we've had two and half wonderful years here. D carried me over the threshold after our honeymoon; we found out we were pregnant in our open kitchen; our little boy was born in its big bath. There's been the mundane stuff too: I've spent lots of days leaning up to the fireplace, glancing out the windows at the view, entertaining friends and family. And of course there have been some sad times too, though thankfully not too many: I had a miscarriage; we found out my aunt has cancer. This place has been so important to us, and yet before we moved in we saw it for only 20 minutes.

Now we are getting ready to do house purchase number two. At least with this condo we had the comfort of knowing it was a new building still under warranty. Now we move into a fixer-upper. It doesn't help that the market here is insane. I think I referred to the fact that I live in neighbourhood where there are million dollar homes. When we were kids, if you heard a house was worth a million dollars, you pictured Tom Cruise's place. But no, I don't live next to 2-acre, gated estates. The homes around here are modest three-bedrooms on lots that are maybe 120 feet deep. The place I grew up in (in another city) was far nicer and more spacious than most of the places around here. Many of them aren't even particularly nice, but the land value alone means a tear-down is over $800,000. Needless to say, we will not be staying in this neighbourhood. But I do want to remain in city limits and that means, for a detached home, a lot of money. And no, D doesn't make gazillions. But in this city you get used to putting a huge amount of your income into real estate.

Anyway we have examined our finances and we've set a price range that we can afford, factoring in the exorbitant cost of daycare, another maternity leave in a couple of years, possibly a new car, RRSP contributions. I am so glad D is sensible like that because I am not. He has an Excel sheet a mile long. And yet, I know a lot our decision will be based on emotion, because that's how I am, and despite his sensibleness, he does let himself get carried away with me. (Don't tell him I said that!)

I saw a place yesterday and I fell in love with its antique fireplace and old-fashioned windows. It's a place we can afford, and it has loads of potential. The neighbourhood, while much shabbier than this one, has lots of young families and is close to a funky shopping area. I called D in a dither this morning after mulling it over for a couple of hours. We've only seen five places (plus a few open houses I've gone to solo), but I was already calling our realtor to say "we're considering this one... seriously." He said we hadn't seen enough. He pointed out the flaws. He think it's overpriced. He said, "I could say 'sure, let's write up an offer' and make my easy commission, but I think we can do better." So we agreed - we'll go see it again this weekend if it's still on the market, but we'll keep looking. I am so lucky to have people in my life to look out for me like that. In the end, real estate is a giant leap of faith. I'm so glad the right person is guiding us through it.

Tired Blather

Man - funny how a busy week is now busy not because of papers due or memos pending. Now my day can be made or broken depending on whether one little person has sinus congestion or not. Funnier still, I don't mind.

I will say one thing that has been tough lately is the length of D's hours. He is normally gone, for 12 hours a day. He leaves before 7 and is back a little after 7. That means morning to night, baby care is my job. I get him up in the morning and put him down at night. I deal with every scream in between (of which there are a great many). But I get all the smiles in between too. Usually D is home in time for bath and bedtime routine, but the very last part of the day is me because LM is still nursing to sleep.

I don't know what the point of that paragraph is. I should probably make one
but I'm too tired right now: LM was up at 6 this morning with congestion and he's still up at least twice a night. I guess the point of this post is that I'm happy, but tired, and occasionally a little sad that D isn't around more - but we're working on that.

Today I Am Thankful For

First and foremost, my healthy and beautiful son. Motherhood is the hardest and the easiest thing ever. So much of it is so basic, so filled with unconditional love that it's easy to do; the hard part is hoping and wishing and trying your best at some of the mysterious parts - the unexplained cries, the 4 a.m. freak-outs. Adventures with Little Man make we want 10 children, but if this is the only chance fate grants me, I know I am exceedingly blessed.

My partner, D, without whom I would be only half of a whole; parenthood is one challenge it is fun to face together, and as with so many other parts of our relationship, I think we have some complementary skills. And we have lots of faith in each other, despite mutual moments of self-doubt and an undoubted diminishment of 'us' time.

My wacky and wonderful family who have showered us with support and love.

The beautiful city and country that I live in where I have security and resources that most of the world does not.

Happiness

Okay, I'm over my little rant from last time. One thing that I have to say this pregnancy has "given" me is an ever-increasing respect and love for D. I mean, don't get me wrong, he has been my best friend for years, but it's just amazing to realise how much respect and trust we have for each other, and how tied we in are to each other's decision-making process. I really do feel that it's important that D be as comfortable with our choices as I am, and one thing the mini-intervention taught me is that he is; after all, this was a decision we made together.

While it has taken him a bit longer to adjust to the reality that we're going to be parents (let's face it, neither of us really know what we've gotten ourselves into) I do love how into it he is. He is already talking about when we could possibly have another one - would 18 months be too soon? (Yes! I won't even have finished my articles by then!) He is very psyched to take some serious time off with the next one. He is very keen to have a huge brood.

Have I mentioned that I've reached the honeymoon period? I'm rebutting all the pregnancy books - it's not the second trimester that's the best, it's the third. I have energy, I feel well, I hear myself laughing all the time.

From the TMI Files

I did a whole bunch of errands today, including buying an amazing mirror for over our fireplace, which makes the whole place look better (and bigger, which is very good when dealing with such an itty-bitty place). I even got D to buy some clothes, which is always a struggle as he hates shopping but often laments his meagre wardrobe.

We also went to two baby stores, where he picked out some clothes and did some information-gathering on big ticket items. I've been feeling a bit guilty since I seem to be on a buying bonanza, and wanted him to feel a bit more involved. I actually had a dream last night that I was being chased - it's a common theme in my dreams - I'm running to or from somewhere. Except this dream was a little different because every now and then I'd spot a baby store and I'd take a break from being chased by a crazy person to look at Gymboree consignment clothing. Some not so opaque symbolism there, I think.

Across the street from the second baby store, I was getting into the car, awkwardly maneuvering my unwieldy self between a lamp post and the door. In doing so, I accidentally stabbed my right boob on the corner of the car door. I was clutching my chest in pain when I noticed that I had actually leaked milk onto my shirt. For some reason this made me laugh hysterically. Pregnancy really is a strange and amazing thing. A real live food product being produced by my body! How would you feel, I asked D, if your body just starting churning out hot dogs or something? It's pretty weird. Cool! But weird.

Childcare and so on

I'm calling it a him now - I've been convinced for much of this pregnancy that we are having a girl, as I just felt very female vibes. D has been equally convinced of its maleness. But recently I have started to feel a very male vibe from it, and D has started referring to us (er... me) as "his girls." Anyway, we shall see. I have resisted buying any pink until now, but now that it's a boy (er, that I think it's a boy) I want to buy some pink to be truly egalitarian.

I've had friends ask me what we plan to do for childcare. The answer is - we have no idea. It is over a year away after all. But we do need to get on waitlists as daycare availability is abysmal here - waitlists are routinely a year or longer and people often register for waitlists right after conception!

All the lawyers I know have nannies - they say the hours are just too unpredictable for daycare. A couple of people have recommended that live-in help would be the way to go. When a partner at my firm suggested it, I almost said - you do remember what you pay me right? We live in a tiny apartment and are making a den into a nursery. We live in a town where half a million won't buy you a house within the city limits. Would the nanny live in our linen closet?

D and I combined make a great income that puts us statistically well above average. But my first year law salary, while completely respectable, is actually 50% less than I was making three years ago. After taxes, it would cover a nanny or a bigger place, but not both. If we do go the nanny route for my first year of work, we'll likely have less disposable income than when I'm on maternity leave. At least on mat leave I'll get EI and the EI will be more than the difference between what I'll make first year and what a nanny costs. I am excited about the career path I've chosen and all, but part of my desire to work does involve making some money at it.

It's all pretty sobering and makes you realise why women are so limited in non-conventional career choices. Anything where there may be extra or unpredictable hours involve a lot of expensive childcare options. While I know D will do his share, he works long hours as well. I hope we can both work something out so that we are both able to be more flexible and I'm really lucky to have a guy who's very dedicated to being 50/50. But I know that usually the one who ends up cutting back on hours and pay is the mother - and I can understand why that happens. He already makes so much more than I don't see myself catching up for at least 5 years. It's the reason we aren't splitting the parental leave 50/50 this time - we couldn't survive on what I'd make.

If I find it this hard, in one of the high-paying firms in a very lucrative profession, just imagine how hard it is for most women.

Running Around

It was such a gorgeous weekend here. I had to work all day Saturday (turns out this bar course is actually pretty time-consuming!) but I took Sunday off. That morning I actually did a 5k run! I had stopped running (and er, most exercise) a couple of weeks ago but I signed up for the run a long time ago, so I planned to walk it. But I was feeling pretty good that morning, so I figured I'd see how running went for a bit, then I'd walk. After running 10 minutes (very slowly), I still felt good so I kept going and I ran probably 75% of it. Usually I would run a 5k in a little less than half an hour. Walking would be an hour. So I ran it in 37 minutes which I think was pretty damn good. I felt fantastic afterwards, though my feet did hurt pretty much all day.

After that, D and I went shopping for a new piece of furniture as we are doing a bit of rearranging. Although I think the whole midcentury thing is a bit overdone, we ended up finding a great piece of 1960s Danish furniture on antique row. It fits right into the desired space! There are some great deals to be had at those stores. My tendency is to turn to Ikea, but I may have a whole new obsession.

I developed another joyous pregnancy symptom. Despite staying very hydrated after my run, I woke up with a horrible leg cramp. It's one of those symptoms you read about in the books, but it sounds so weird and unlikely. But I actually woke up screeching in pain. It still kind of hurts today. The books say to take magnesium to prevent them, but I already take it. I also read to put a bar of Ivory soap under your bed, which makes absolutely no sense at all, but people on message boards swear that it works! If it happens again I'll try anything.

I consider myself to have a pretty high pain threshold, and am generally unstressed about the whole pain of labour. But I sure hope my uterus contracting doesn't feel anything like my calf muscle contracting.

May Weekend

Have been MIA, enjoying a week of relative peace and quiet before I start my bar course tomorrow! Agh! Funny how whenever I have free time, I write less.

We had an amazing long weekend staying at a little B&B out of town - a little "babymoon" before I get too big and unwieldy. The b&b had an enormous soaker tub, which I love. I had three long, delicious baths. We spent much time outside on the water and hitchhiked around the countryside, a very accepted practice in those parts. We ate early and fell asleep very tired.

The owner of the inn was a sweet and delightful woman and told us what a lucky baby we have to have such nice parents. Awww... D pored over baby books and read me aloud tips from a book for Dads that I got him (one of the few I've found that isn't written as if men are complete imbeciles, but very heavy on sports metaphors.)

Now I am pleasantly tired and getting ready to eat some stew before an early bedtime.

Ups and Downs

I think I finally have a belly this morning! I didn't have much of one yesterday, but then last night after dinner it just sort of stretched out. It's still pretty small, easily covered with a baggy top or jacket, but much more than just a healthy meal.

I felt some kicking last week - a little flutter. I know it's early, but I have been paying hyper-attention to it. I've felt all sorts of strange things, but I'm pretty sure most of them are just normal rumblings. However that one little flutter right down where the midwife said the baby lives was definitely kicking. So much fun.

All in all, the past week has been a lot better, but there are a couple of things that are still driving me insane, and since I don't have a lot of places to vent, you guys get to read about them!

1. Mothers-in-law: D made the mistake of telling my mother-in-law yesterday that I went for a run. Big mistake as she is convinced that running caused very premature (and non-viable) delivery for my sister-in-law, even though the aforementioned running took place over a month before that delivery. So the minute I got on the phone she tells me: "Stop running!" She has some old-fashioned ideas about how pregnancy = being an invalid. I won't say there haven't been times this month when I've agreed with that sentiment, but it does get a little tiresome to be told what to do by someone who hasn't been pregnant for over 30 years. It gives me a little joy to think about how she will react when she finds out we are contemplating home birth.

2. Mothers: My mother is the opposite, but every time we talk she asks me how much I am exercising. "You are keeping it up, aren't you? You're not going to gain too much weight are you?" My mother, who I love very dearly and get along with very well, has a few irksome qualities, one of them being a weight fixation. Most of this is focussed on herself - she constantly complains about her weight. But every now and then I find myself the target - I remember her advising me to lose a bit of weight off my thighs when I was 15. I was encouraged to do low-carb before my prom.

It must be a family thing - my aunt, who unlike my mother, is very overweight, talks about it constantly. She's always on some crazy starvation diet, which she then rebounds off of with a vengeance. I'm fairly certain I have not inherited this obsession - I mean, like 99% of women I still fixate a bit, but I must promise myself that if this baby is a daughter (or son), I will never comment on her teenage thighs (except to say nice things!) I will encourage her to exercise, but for fun and fitness, not because of a little extra flab.

3. Nipples: I am liking my new, larger bosom (hey all things are relative, and B seems big to me), but I could do without new nipples. They are darker and bigger, and I really do not like it. D says they look great, but he has to say that or I'll punch him, so he's not an entirely believable source.

4. Headaches: why does every pregnancy book say that migraines and headaches get better with pregnancy? Mine haven't. I've had a headache about 30% of the time, and it sucks.

5. They say fatigue gets better in the second trimester, and it does. But I'm still dog-tired. Yes, I did just say dog-tired. Eight hours of sleep + nap is de rigueur. (How's that for a mix of southern vernacular + pretentious second language idioms all in one paragraph?)

6. Worrying: I have curbed some of my crazier worries, but I am drawn to blogs where people go over horrible things that happened to their children/pregnancies - non-viable deliveries, neonatal death, pain relief wearing off during ceasareans. Someone cut me off!

Anyway, I'll stop my complaining, but I will say that I had always thought I'd feel rosy and alive during pregnancy, and to be honest, at 16 weeks I'm still waiting for that. On the bright side, I feel very happy and in love, with both my husband and our baby.

April already

April is here with sunshine and somewhat warm weather.

I went for a run this morning along the beach, which was delightful. It was a slow pace, since I haven't been for weeks, and required a bathroom break, but it made me feel good.

Then I went for brunch and had a nap. I think even D is getting panicked about how little work I am doing. He claims to be having nightmares about it. Oh well, they won't fail me at this point.

148

Thanks for all the kind thoughts about the kitty. I am adjusting well. But every now and then I see her out of the corner of my eye before I realise it's just a blanket or a piece of furniture, or nothing at all! But maybe it is her, just a little bit.

We had our second midwife meeting yesterday. D came again, which was surprising since I didn't think he would want to come to them regularly, but when he found out I was going, he was quite keen to be there. I don't think he'll come to them all, but it's nice for him to at least meet each of the midwives in the practice. The woman yesterday was older and very nice. She had a really calm presence. I liked the first one a lot since she was young and hip, and I knew I'd feel comfortable around her, but it was great to know that I think I will feel comfortable around this woman too - just for different reasons. She's been a midwife for 30 years and exudes experience.

The last visit was really just an intro where they did a health history, but this time we started doing the urine and weight checks that will keep happening. They ask you to test your own urine - so you take a little strip and then use that to check for glucose, protein etc. It's really easy since you just hold the strip up to a colour chart to make sure everything is the right colour, but it did strike me as kind of hilarious to be in there, assessing my pee. But I guess it makes sense, since unlike a doctor's office there's no nurse on staff.

In the waiting room, D and I found a retro '80s book with all sorts of tips on dressing stylishly during pregnancy. All of the suggested "looks" involved very large, baggy articles of clothing, many with shoulder pads. And preferably a vest.

After all of that, it was Doppler time - that anxiety inducing moment when they see if they can hear the heartbeat. They tell you they can't always hear it, but that they will refer you for an ultrasound if there isn't one. Which is code for, "if we don't hear it, there's a possibility something bad has happened."

The student midwife put the Doppler on - first we heard my blood flow, a slow lub-dub. She moved away from that, and then just for a moment we got the rapid pace of the baby's heart. It ducked away and they found it again, and we listened for a good minute. Such a wonderful sound - and nice and fast as it should be at 148 beats.

The Break

Ah spring break. For some reason, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to paint our entire place in preparation for selling it. Since our place is essentially one room, (and our bathroom is still in disarray from recent renos) our place is a gigantic mess. So it isn't turning out to be a terribly relaxing break. And of course there's the little matter of school work - I am supposed to be doing some.

We have our first prenatal appointment later today, which is very exciting. I am hoping we can hear heartbeat on the doppler, but I guess they may not try it if I am still too early.

The cat is doing a little better. She purrs and jumps on the bed and moves around and doesn't appear to be in any pain. She is usually relatively recalcitrant and moody when anything is off in her little universe, so I think it will show when she is ready to go. She is taking steroids and this could shrink her tumour temporarily and give her a little more time. I am worried that her time will come when I am away next wee, but I hope she lasts until I get home again. D will have to pill her, which I know will be a challenge.

My moods are all over the place - happy, then tearful. But more happy than tearful.

The Good and the Bad

I had a wonderful Valentine's Day. We made dinner together (well, mostly I lay on the sofa feeling nauseous, but I did make the sauce). Then we watched a silly but amusing movie. And we lay in bed talking, which is always nice.

I am over the worst of my worries, I think. I realise that I can worry about miscarriage, and then in the second trimester I will worry about umbilical cord accidents, and then I will worry about labour, and then I will worry about Sudden Infant Death and then I will worry about leaving my kid with strangers at daycare and basically I will be worrying for the next 50 years. I remind myself that it's only productive to worry about things I can control. Easier said than done, but I'm working on it with some successs.

We had very sad, and shocking news this morning. I took my cat in yesterday as she hadn't eaten in a few days. Both my cats have a variety of weird health issues, but none of them ever turn out to be that serious, though they are often expensive. However, the vet did seem a bit grave and kept her overnight. I got the call this afternoon and there wasn't much detail, but when I called back he broke the news - cancer. She's a young cat, only six and half, so I was shocked. She has a tumour the size of golfball in her GI tract.

There are options of chemo and surgery but those would likely be very expensive and only give her a few more months since it is a lymphatic cancer. So we will do some steroids and she may last a few weeks, or maybe only days. I feel terrible that I didn't notice earlier - it's so obvious to me now when I feel her fragile spine - it's spiking up through her skin. She has lost 20% of her body weight since last April, but she is a fluffy cat and I admit, I didn't notice it. I don't know how I missed it, but I did.

My biggest worry is that I am going away in 10 days and will be gone for 5 days. I'm terrified something will happen while I'm gone. I hope that it happens after - or before, as terrible as that sounds.

She's a weird little cat, very shy and anxious, but she loves to cuddle at night and purrs like a champ. She's curled up now in her favourite spot in the bookshelf.

Worries

I have felt awful for the last few days. I think my stomach moved to another planet. And even though I swore I wouldn't be one of those women who uses pregnancy as an excuse to turn into a "raging bitch" (those were my very smug words on Thursday), in the past 24 hours there have been tears for no reason, demands that D get me food I'm craving, and a general on-the-edge feeling.

I belong to this forum where pregnant women talk, and it seems like every day we lose one to miscarriage. That worries me, especially as they are often farther along than me. One of them said, post-miscarriage, that the embryo's heart rate had been too low at her first ultrasound; it was 117 at six and a half weeks and her doctor said that it was a cause for concern. Well ours was only in the low 120s! And we were seven weeks - is that too low for seven weeks?

Also, I read that the gestational sac should be a perfect sphere, but on the ultrasound print-off mine is this weird pancake shape with a dip in it. I hope it's just because she was pushing me in order to get a nice pic without the yolk sac in it (yes, there's a yolk in there... isn't that bizarre?)

Saturday, D asked me if I had any feelings that things might go wrong. I said it was a terrible question, and he said it was just because so far everything had seemed "tickety-boo" (yes he used that word) and he wanted to make sure that's what I thought too. I said, no, no major worries - everything is wonderful! Everything will be fine! And then I started worrying. That night I dreamt I was bleeding.

Lazy Saturday

It's been a gorgeously sunny day, no hats or mitts needed. We walked down to the beach and watched the dogs play in the surf.

The apartment is a disaster, as usual. It feels like a constant battle - one I'm losing. We had the bathroom ripped out last week. The previous owners did their own tiling and though it was pretty nice looking, they did a crap job and the tiles started popping off leaving patches of puffy whipped cream-like drywall. Because they tiled floor to ceiling we had to replace the walls of the whole bathroom, since we couldn't match it. It's mostly back together but we still have to paint and sand and seal. Our bathroom stuff is crammed across the hall.

The kitchen cupboard is open and I see a thousand boxes of tea tumbling all over each other. What I wouldn't give for just a little more space. We need to paint, but that will be another long painful process as we have nowhere to put things while a specific area gets painted.

Also D is sick. Being the loving wife I am I went out and bought Vitamin C and Cold-FX and and lozenges, but the bedroom floor is littered with small white balls of kleenex. I am praying I don't get it as I already feel tired and sick enough! And there'll be no Tylenol Cold or Cold FX for me.

Ultrasound

So we had our ultrasound yesterday...

It's a strange process because at first, the screen is positioned so you can't see it; the tech makes all kinds of squinting faces and the machine beeps and sighs. Also, I way overdid it on water drinking so I was actually in physical pain by the time I got in there. I even peed twice right before going in, and the tech (thankfully!) told me I was still too full. Those guidelines about drinking four big glasses of water are clearly not designed for my minute bladder. Then, they still had do an internal anyway, so all my pain was in vain.

So when they actually turned the screen towards me, my reaction was a bit understated. Basically, I was just like "Cool!" D had a lot more questions than I did, like "How big is it?" "Does it have a brain yet?"

The best part was getting to hear a little heartbeat - thump-thump-thump-thump. So that was pretty neat. We even got a little picture to take home, which I will eventually scan, even though it basically just shows a little white blob.

Prenatal

Well, I went for my first pre-natal exam yesterday. I love my G.P. - she is really sweet. So the exam involved reconfirming the pregnancy with another urine sample, then having a sort of all over physical.

She asked if I was planning to breastfeed and said she highly recommended it. "It's not always easy," she said, "for you or for them."

Speaking of, my breasts, (why does it feel like a bad romance novel to talk about your "breasts") they have gotten much bigger. Now size is relative, I realise, but from a decidedly-A to a pretty-much-qualifies-as-B feels very exciting to me! I have to stop and admire them every now and then. When I start to worry, I just reach and press one - "yup, still hurts." Anyone know when it stops hurting?

She asked when my last period was, which I can't remember - after all, that is how we got into this mess isn't it? I think conception must have been around the 24th of 25th because after that we realised we were in danger zone. But I'm not sure... so she vaguely suggested a dating ultrasound which I jumped on; I have to admit, part of me just wants to see that there's really something there, maybe some kind of flicker. That would be reassuring.

After that there was the pelvic, but no PAP since I am a good girl and went in November. She examined me and said, (here's a delightful mental image for you) "it feels pretty beefy in there. Maybe you are further along than we think, or maybe there are twins. It could also be the tilt of your ut..." My interest faded off here as I swallowed the word "twins." When I told D this story he wasn't aghast at twins, he was like "she was feeling around in there? How does she do that?"

I actually love the idea of twins; like a lot of people I've always been fascinated by them. But I've also heard a lot of sad stories. My grandmother gave birth to stillborn twins, as did my in-laws. Plus, it would become virtually impossible for me to work enough hours to qualify for EI since they're almost always premature and even if they're not, you're pretty much laid up for the last few weeks. (And phew, my sister-in-law was wrong, you don't need to work six months to get it, just 600 hours, which I could do) Maybe I'm wrong about prematurity and laid-up-ness, but that is my impression. My G.P. said not to worry about it and chances are slim, but sometimes one little word from a medical professional can leave you pondering all night. So anyway... ultrasound, I'm keen.

Oh, then at the end she mentioned there was some protein and a little blood in my urine, which she said is not a worry, but could signal infection, but probably not. She mentioned the word "beefy" again at that point too. I'm going to take her word on the not worrying part. For some weird reason I often have blood in my urine when I test - had it with my gallbladder issue too. If anyone knows what that's all about, fill me in.

P.S. Also forgot to mention that I am now further along than I got the first time, which is likely insignificant in terms of risk, but feels milestone-y for some reason.

Probably far too much information

That - is a very blurry picture of a plus sign. Funny - I have actually never seen a positive pregnancy test before because last time, when I miscarried, I never got a really definitive positive. There was a faint, faint line which led to me to the doctor who confirmed it via bloodwork.

So this is probably way too much detail, but I include it as a cautionary tale - I have been using the FAM method of birth control, or actually not using it. FAM is a method where you chart your temperatures, cervical fluid etc. and figure out when you ovulate. The first few days of your cycle and once you've ovulated you don't need protection. But then I got kind of lazy and stopped "temping", which the book says never to do, and stopped examining my fluid, which the book also says never to do. My cycle was super-regular - I without fail ovulated on Day 17, so I bent the rules and stretched out the time we could go without protection beforehand. We we were still pretty careful and used condoms from Day 10 or so onwards. Except when we were in Jamaica I guess I miscalculated what day we were on. Suddenly I realised we were no longer in the "safe zone" and thought not much more of it because it still would have been relatively unlikely because we were nowhere near Day 17. But I guess the body does weird things because here we are! I know it sounds like this was a terribly risky method of birth control anyway. But if I had actually followed it, this would not have happened. The book says never to assume when you will ovulate, but I broke that rule. So I stand by FAM, with the caution that it's easy to get complacent about compliance. After all, the birth control pill is not good either if you don't take it.

So yes, this was a surprise. We had been trying last year because the timing worked well - I'm essentially part-time at school and I thought it would be great to have a baby before getting out in the law world - I'd have taken this summer off. But as time marched on, the window of opportunity passed. I am (was) starting a clerkship in September, then doing my articles, so we figured we'd aim for after my articles. That would have put our "ideal" due date, oh, about a two years and a half years from now.

We were away for the weekend at D's work retreat; I was lying in bed feeling nauseous and thinking about why. Then I remembered that almost a week earlier I had leaned over the sofa and my chest had been really sore. I'll add here that I'm an A-cup, so that area of my body is not accustomed to soreness, except for maybe the day before my period. D woke up and asked what was up. I said "I'm worried we might have miscalculated in Jamaica." He was like "what will be will be!" D has actually been jonesing a little for a baby lately and while there's been no pressure, he has said that two and a half years seems an awfully long time away. A few months ago he said "My single biggest fear is that I'll wait too long before I have children and I'll be too old." It was an out-of-the-blue remark and he sort of laughed it off afterwards. But maybe someone was listening.

So on Tuesday, as saw, I took one of the old cheapie tests I had kicking around. No line came up at first. I wasn't as disappointed as I expected. I shrugged my shoulders at D and started making breakfast. But a minute or two later I looked over and there was a line. I took another test yesterday and got that plus you see here. And today, my doctor confirmed it and gave me a pregnancy magazine and a little book with a no-neck baby grinning on the cover.

I'm feeling a little torn. If this has happened six months ago or six months from now, I'm sure I'd have been thrilled. But is it horribly ungrateful to think that this is the worst possible timing? I will likely have to give up my clerkship - that's my single greatest regret about this. I won't be eligible for EI because I won't have worked enough in the previous year - even if it had been a few months earlier/later I would have been. We'll have to sell our place because it's only 700 square feet with one very small bedroom and I just don't see us making it work here. I realise people raise kids in one-bedrooms and we could too, but if I co-sleep I'd rather it be by choice than out of necessity. And this is the little stuff - but I probably won't be able to do the triathlon; and I just spent $200 on a bridesmaid dress I will now be far too enormous to wear!

So that's me freaking out. But there is someone on the opposite shoulder reminding me that life is what happens when you're busy making plans. And I know this will be the most awesome adventure ever. And I do believe in fate and that if this all works out it was meant to be. And while giving up the clerkship is a blow, I also know that many other people give up a lot more - teenage mothers who forgo graduating, and low income folks who have a lot less than we do. Or who knows, maybe I can still work something out with them and my other job. At least I can try and get some extra work this summer to be eligible for EI. I am lucky to live in a country where taking a year off is permitted, even expected, and I'm lucky that even if I don't get EI, we could afford for me to do it. And D's excited too - greeting me with "How's the best ever future mother?" And it is kind of cool that our baby was conceived on Christmas in the Caribbean. Beats my conception story - my parents' weird friend's guest bedroom while their house was being reno'd. And last but definitely not least - I get out of cleaning the cat litter for a whole nine months!

Part of me wonders too if this muted reaction is a bit of self-protection given what happened last time. The other weird thing is that I haven't had any symptoms really. Last time I was really sick and I haven't felt any real symptoms yet other than the soreness and a tiny tinge of nausea. Maybe once I have a good bout of vomiting this will all feel more real. And yes, I realise the irony of reasoning that puking might make me appreciate all this a little more.

P.S. KRISTEN! Are you still out there? Where are you blogging these days? Please send me a note if you can't write it down at grass@ this site dot com.