no. 563 – Accepting

Can you tell by the extraordinary posts (as I’m sure I dazzled you before) that something’s amiss? I’ve got the dreaded "survivor’s guilt syndrome" even though I won’t technically have "survived" this pregnancy until sometime in July when someone cuts a baby out of me and tells me that we all can go home.

I feel like such a hypocrite, too, because I will admit that I roll my eyes when others explain how they are feeling guilty for having obtained pregnancy. Well, der, isn’t that what all this is about?

I remember when I first started blogging in 2005 and I didn’t feel comfortable talking about my son. I had seen too many posts where SIF just didn’t seem to warrant the same kind of empathy as PIF. But then I realized that having my son had nothing to do with having infertility as well as my infertility had nothing to do with my son. The two are wholly unrelated.

As I found a niche in blogging, I talked more about my son. He provided subject matter when we were waffling about what next on the totem of treatment when I could have just not posted at all. Maybe fore some that was preferable and so they came, they saw, and they went. But many of you stayed. I didn’t feel the need to preempt a post with the warning that I was going to write about XBoy. He’s part of the package.

So now I have to get used to the fact that this "Technical Pregnancy" is part of the package, and it’s not like it’s came out of the blue: it took three years, 10 ART cycles and I had to let go of 4 other pregnancies.

Expect to hear me bitching (about Ass Mouth and Hormonal Bloating) (about the sensitive gag reflex triggered by taking gum out of my mouth) (about the prenatal vitamin that’s as big as a hissing cockroach and about as tolerable) about pregnancy symptoms from time to time. Just as I will let you into the not-so-pleasant world of raising a now six-year old who has a quaint way of screaming at us like a banshee when we tell him to get ready for his bath or how when he won’t go willingly into a time-out he flops to the floor like a noodle when you physically manipulate him making him the poster child for anyone who wants to perform an illegal demonstration in front of the White House.

So what’s next? I may have to get the ball rolling by talking about poop and its annoying absence.