no. 562 – Letting the Cat Out

I really thought this post wouldn’t be so difficult to start, but for some reason I’m feeling particularly reluctant to do so. I think it’s because I’ve got so use to the privacy of my other blog that I’ve forgotten the whole purpose of why I started this one in the first place. But it’s time to come back here and even though by doing so I will almost instantaneously become a topic of "rumors" via the co-worker who reads this blog.

As many of you know, I’m pregnant again. In fact today I had my third ultrasound where my husband and I saw a single, one-inch embryo bobbing around in a gestational sac and heard it’s heart beat for the first time. I will be 8 weeks tomorrow.

I hadn’t shared the news earlier because of the constant fear I have of miscarrying once again. I’ll remind you that while this is pregnancy number six, I only have one living child. I am consumed by the possibility that this one, too, could end at any time. It happens all too often in this community of infertility and recurrent miscarriages.

For now I’m breathing easily after having this recent ultrasound where everything is on target, but I know that within 24 hours my angst will have my virtual self curled up in a ball somewhere in my head.

Physically, I feel…well…not pregnant. Morning sickness has been noticeably absent to date. I’m not about to look that gift horse in the mouth for fear of said horse puking up a gut-full of grain and hay. Instead I have the not-so-pleasant symptom of Ass-Mouth.

What is Ass-Mouth?

Let’s just say that within minutes of eating anything the taste that remains can only be described as ASS. It’s a symptom I remember vividly with Vivienne which subsided with her demise, unfortunately. So I use that as a gage and that as long as everything continues to leave an ASS-y aftertaste, I can feel some small measure of comfort.

It will be another two weeks before my next appointment. At that time, I may be granted a reprieve from the daily progesterone (PIO) shots. To date on this cycle, I’ve had 42 PIO injections – 21 to each hip, but who’s counting?

I have also removed the password from a select number of posts from my other site that chronicles these past few weeks, just in case you are in need of some way of avoiding doing the dishes, vacuuming, surgery or anything else that requires either physical or mental activity. Yes, it very well could be that dull. The Ball would be probably just as good as place to start as any.