THE 1st TRIMESTER – (vomit central)

Monday July 20^th
DAY 1….?
We both took the day off to relax and enjoy some summery weather in a park. After IVF they recommend that you ‘take it easy’ so I think lounging in a park will suffice. The pregnancy blood test is scheduled for August 4^th. So now we just have nothing left to do but wait and think about all the endless possibilities…

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Wednesday July 29^th
Waiting
Not much has happened this past week and Claudine went to bed tonight feeling a bit like she was coming down with the flu. Perhaps instead of a human embryo they accidentally transferred some avian flu into her. Flashes of scenes from the movie Aliens clamber to mind. I woke up in the wee hours of the night – the witching hour when your brain runs around while your body tries to sleep. On my phone I goggled a multitude of things that suddenly and inexplicably terrified me: irrational hurricanes of thoughts spiraling down rabbit holes of things that could possibly go wrong. What if’s and unknowns are always murkier at 4:15am.

For some reason I typed, “What if I don’t love my baby” – there is apparently an entire Internet of people who have actually had this issue. The banality of it all made me feel suddenly quite peaceful, I scolded myself for concocting such utter shit to worry about and soon went back to sleep. You really are a creepy place, Internet.

 

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Sunday August 3^rd
More Waiting
I have never been good at waiting. Waiting for news. Waiting for results. Waiting for waiting.

Apparently a lot of people “cheat” and do an at home pee pregnancy test before going in for the clinic results. We decided to wait, mostly not wanting to be swayed by a possibly inconclusive at home test result and also not wanting to spend $50 on a piece of plastic to pee on.

Claudine and I devised a clever plan, wherein I will ‘text’ her the results when the clinic calls me with them because we will both be too nervous to speak. Our planned list of signal emoji might have quickly gotten out of control. It seems hilariously irreverent to text a shrimp or poop emoji to find out if your life is about to change forever.

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Tuesday August 4^th
Results Day
We are back in the clinic this morning for the pregnancy blood test. It is a simple yes or no answer to decide if all the trials, efforts and expense of the last few months have been worthwhile. I realise with the clarity you get from distance, that this place is like a casino: busy swirly patterns in the carpet, bright, fresh lighting above and constantly buzzing with unspoken anticipation. Except unlike a real casino they don’t serve drinks and the big jackpot is spending crazy buckets of money in hopes of getting a tiny crying human.

Claudine hasn’t really been “feeling anything” the past few weeks and is pretty certain that nothing is happening.

We briefly met with the nurse after the blood test to discuss next steps and to confirm what number she would call us at. Claudine heads to work and I head home to get my day started, both of us pretending to be calm and collected, but mostly just wanting to adopt a crouched heels to butt and knees to forehead position; where you hug your shins and never let go. Waiting is the worst.

Later that morning at 10:10am, the phone finally rang. My heart thumped and my veins filled with icy, excited adrenaline. Mercifully, the nurse was immediate with her update and said “Hi, I have good news for you!”

It’s weird how adrenaline and elation seem to gush from the very same source.

My trembling hand wrote down the numbers the nurse recited for ‘Beta’ HCG levels. I am totally confused by all the specifics, wondering if perhaps the degrees of pregnant vary depending on the number? You are a little, medium or large amount of pregnant? I made the nurse repeat the info in a slow robotic way because my nerves made wobbly fissures out of my ears.

“Claudine’s beta levels are at 13,384″ the nurse repeated again into the phone

So that number is good, right?

“Yes, it is just super. The doctor will be tickled pink.”

Phew, I hope he likes being pink

“We will see you in two days for a follow-up test to confirm everything, but as of right now this is great news, congratulations”

The relief and happiness I feel is inexplicable. I hung up the phone, sobbed from a guttural place of joy and called Claudine. I didn’t have the heart to text her a shrimp emoji.

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Thursday August 6^th
birthdays & blessings

This morning was the follow-up blood test to make sure that the results of two days ago were not weaving tales of untruth. Science can be a tricky little bastard sometimes.

Today is Claudine’s 41^st birthday; I sleepily walked past her in the kitchen and said “Good morning muffins” to the tray of bran raisin muffins I baked last night. I don’t usually wish our food good tidings, but for some reason I did this morning. It took until she came into the bathroom and said “Hi, do you know what today is?” for the early morning brain fog to clear and I nearly fell out of the shower as we laughed about forgetting her day of birth because of muffins. (Which incidentally were a bit dry and not at all deserving of morning well wishes.)

At the clinic Rod Stewart’s gravelly voice droned on about asking if he has told us lately that he loves us over the speakers in the waiting area, which is all a bit presumptuous at 7am.

The light seemed different in the office today; perhaps the news of a few days ago has removed some shadows of worry from the darker corners of our minds. It is so early to feel excited, but it is hard to contain these storms of elation.

The worried furrowed and creased brows of the other people in the waiting room seem more etched in today or perhaps I am just noticing them for the first time because I don’t have my own worried brow to ponder over.

It’s a bit surreal to finally be at this point. Everything in the process felt like it went from being glued flat up against a wall to suddenly gusting around in an ocean smooched breeze.

There was some confusion about whether we were to get an ultrasound in addition to the blood test. We got as far as Claudine on the exam table, undressed from the waist down sitting under a paper blanket. The technician soon realized during the usual barrage of questions that we were clearly not in the right place.

“You are having transfer today?” she asked in a wonderfully thick Russian accent.

“No we already did that, we are here for our second pregnancy test” I said wondering why the papers in her hands were not matching the activity inside of Claudine. In this long, meandering process it is easy to second-guess everything.

“You already put in the embryo? Are you sure?”

“Umm, yes, I am very sure. We were there”

“Hang on, I will check ze file on computer again, wait here”

Turns out we were in the wrong room. We all laugh; but not as jovially as the technician who at this point clearly thinks we are total rookies expecting to have an ultrasound so early on.

Later in the correct room the nurse reports that the Beta HCG level is 25,000 today. The growing cells are multiplying. They are moving at the speed of life and are taking my heart along for the ride!

We are pregnant.

I am so glad to have not spent that last few weeks just talking to Claudine’s digestive system for no reason.

 

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Wednesday August 12^th
1^st Ultrasound

The technician pulls up the usual amorphous gobs of indefinable ultrasound pictures on the screen. From the top corner – of what essentially looks like a close up of an oversized eyeball – she points out a tiny flickering mass. A small quivering set of dots light up an area on the screen. A heartbeat. Our embryo is forming the beginnings of a tiny human heart.

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Tuesday August 25^th
Deepening my resolve

My family had been in town and things have felt a bit hectic. Poor Claudine has struggled through work and the daily efforts her body is making to acclimatize to a new stowaway.

Apparently the expanding uterus can cause a stretching, cramping sensation. Claudine tried to point out the exact spot on me – a few inches between the bellybutton and the side of the hipbone – which made me crinkle up like a vampire on a beach vacation. Deepening my resolve that I am thankfully not the one having a new human growing inside of me. I just don’t think I could deal.

 

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Thursday August 27^th
2^nd Ultrasound

My sister is texting us pictures of aliens drawn in textbooks about what the embryo looks like at this stage.
I am not sure if this is at all helpful or not. I do think the sooner it stops having a tail the better.

Our fertility doctor reviews our file and seems totally pleased with the progress. He gives us the list of do’s and don’t for the next few weeks of the 1^st trimester. He explains baffling concepts like ‘Baby Blood’ and ‘Mother Blood’ and how these with be simultaneously flowing through Claudine’s veins.

He dictates everything into his computer through a microphone while chewing gum.

He is always chewing gum.

April 5^th is our due date, give or take 2 weeks on either side.

Walking the dog later Claudine asked me if I was ready to be a parent. I said no, how could you ever really be ready for that. And if you said yes I would know that it was a lie. But I am ready for the journey and the challenge.

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Thursday September 10^th
all the tiny things

Our next official scan is in a few weeks so we are crossing fingers and toes that all is still progressing as it should be and that the growing fetus does indeed have fingers and toes.
These are the things I worry about now. Fingers and toes at microscopic sizes. Everything is just so tiny, yet my brain feels like it might explode from the overwhelming magic of it all.

 

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Friday September 11^th
Green Walls. Green Chairs. 3^rd Ultrasound

The clinic of our new obstetrician is way more hospital and a lot less stenciled walls and flashy carpeting. In fact, the design style verges on abysmal with green on green chair and floor combos, harsh florescent lighting and a clock with a piece of cardboard taped over it.

“They don’t want us to know the time,” Claudine whispers.

There is a room off of the ladies washroom with a sign that says Breastfeeding Lounge. I momentarily envision this to be a decadent, lushly decorated emporium of lounging new mothers suckling their young beside a water feature that murmurs a genteelly melting trickle… But then I remember the cardboard taped clock and reconsider that it is probably just a room with chairs. Green chairs. I don’t go in to find out.

Today we are attending a genetic screening ‘seminar’ type thing. Claudine has been feeling much better these past few days and is now a bit worried that things are no longer progressing inside. Worry, I am learning, is a symptom and side effect of pregnancy/parenthood.

The pre-genetic screening seminar is a small meeting room with chairs and a TV screen, the presentation video starts and I struggled to stay conscious. The video whined on about various modes of testing the fetus at different stages to detect chromosomal anomalies. What a snooze fest! Many years ago I learned an infuriatingly effective trick to keep myself awake. I use my tongue and draw small soft circles on the roof of my mouth. The sensation is crazy annoying and makes sleep back step to the displeasure of the feeling. (My apologies to all of you that just tried it and now have a maddening self-inflicted feeling in your mouths.)

Anyway, I digress, the video was educational and really marvelous that so much information is offered, for free, to expectant parents here at Mount Sinai Hospital.

The presentation started at 10am, extra special kudos to the lady who sauntered in at 10:41am – just in time to catch the last four minutes of the presentation, she is either going to be the most or least prepared new parent ever. Clever.

At the end of the ‘show’ the staff doctor seat us in individual waiting rooms to have our one on one meeting with a coordinator and then a review of questions. Our next official ultrasound is scheduled in 2 weeks. But the kindly attending doctor wanted to ease the storm clouds of concerns that were flooding Claudine’s mind and arranged for the scan to be done right away.

During the scan we saw what looked less like a shadowy mass of cells and something beginning to resemble a baby. A tiny human with a strong beating heart, a head and arms and legs and other parts and pieces that will all one day become someone that I can’t yet fully understand how much I will love.

Towards the end of the scan and just as the technician was about to finish up, the fetus moved and turned to face us directly. It was amazing and the perfect amount of creepy…and I saw it move…and my heart has officially splintered into millions of tiny fragments.

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Tuesday September 13^th
Sperm Poisoning.
My friend Alice asked me today how the sperm poisoning was going.
Most. Hilarious. Question. Ever.

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Tuesday September 15^th
Shepherds Pie.
Claudine came home from work tonight and announced, with almost violent conviction, that she was starving and had a craving for shepherd’s pie, a ‘vegetable shepherds pie’, but no mushrooms, because she suddenly can’t stand mushrooms. I am intelligent enough to know not to argue with a hungry, pregnant woman. So I got chopping produce immediately.

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Wednesday September 16^th
No Shepherds Pie.

Apparently Claudine has a ‘buttery’ and ‘waxy’ taste in her mouth today so will not be eating anymore shepherds pie because it will “make her vomit.”
Included also in this range of ‘buttery mouth’ making food items is salt, pasta, rice, bread and basically anything else I have offered to cook tonight.
It is remarkable that a growing fetus can make such a usually normal, levelheaded person say the weirdest bullshit.

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Friday September 25^th
4^th Ultrasound
We had our 4th ultrasound today. At around 12 weeks our baby is progressing wonderfully. Amongst other important things our baby has knees.
They were bent, as it appeared to lounge around casually in utero.

TEENY TINY KNEES!

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Wednesday September 30^th
OBGYN (opqrstuvwxyz)
Today was our first meeting with the OBGYN at Mt Sinai. Everyone here is remarkably friendly despite the fact that the office looks like the interior of a 1980’s TV series that takes place in a spaceship.

We found some empty chairs near the waiting area for postpartum depression and the mental health clinic. I found the fact that this area was empty today to be encouraging.

One of the posters was a mothers group for people with eating disorders, the hungrily torn off numbers along with the unfortunate photo of a child looking like she is about to take a bite out of a shoulder made me laugh.

The nurse met with us to review our test results, which mercifully all came back normal and so far negative of anomalies. And with an equally futuristic looking handheld device to match the spaceship office pod, we were able to listen to the heartbeat for the very first time. When that sound filled the room, the reality that love can make you collapse inwardly with glee completely enveloped me and I found myself yet again getting teary eyed. Apparently parenthood is going to be all about me excitedly joy-crying in front of total strangers.