Tuesday, January 13, 2015

dreams of my mother (and other charming nighttime tales).

Sixth ultrasound today at 9:30. Per usual, I have no idea what we'll see. I know this weekend I only had a couple of weak uterine twinges where Nugget implanted, which made me nervous. The daily knock-knock from the baby has been comforting to me during this limbo. Then, yesterday, I had a series of strong knock-knocks. Three sharper twinges in a row each time. They felt a little like the implantation cramps, actually. I hope that means Nugget was snuggling in for the long haul.

The past three nights I've had the most vivid dreams/nightmares. Saturday night, I had this horrific one in which a doctor whose name I couldn't pronounce (in the dream I actually took a picture of his door with my phone because I couldn't remember OR say his name) told me that most doctors wait their whole life for a patient as "special" as me. "You will never carry a baby to term," he told me. "There is something in your body that attacks the fetus. This baby inside of you, it will never make it. You will never be a mother."

You don't need a PhD in psychology to decipher that one. But later, in the same dream, I am wandering the streets of this lakeside town looking for my dead mother. I eventually find her. She doesn't look dead - she looks like a normal person - but in the dream I knew she was dead. I tell her about what the doctor said and how I think that it's because her genes were broken and that's what I inherited. She was eating popcorn or some other snack and was all, "Whoa, that's intense." Because yes, when I encounter my dead mother in a dream, she acts like a college-aged stoner.

Sunday night saw me locking Mini-Hope in the trunk of a car - to be fair, she voluntarily got in, but then we forgot about her - and Mr. Hope trying to rescue a stray tabby that was covered in fleas. Literally, I looked down and saw the cat's fur and it looked like it was moving, there were so many fleas. Mr. Hope was wearing a sweater and the fleas started nestling in that as well. I was panicking and kept saying we'd need to walk around until we found a shop where we could get them both dipped (the cat AND Mr. Hope).

And last night? There was another crazy vivid dream, though less nightmarish. It had a plot, as most of my dreams do, and when I woke up and was like, "Okay, three in a row," I knew I'd write about them. Only now, sitting at my laptop, I can't remember last night's to save my life.

I know that vivid dreams are a common pregnancy symptom, but from what I've read they're the result of hormonal changes. I'm on a shit ton of hormones (2 mg estradiol 2/day, prometrium suppositories, PIO) so that doesn't necessarily reflect Nugget's current state of being.

Other "symptoms": The soreness of my boobs waxes and wanes (this morning they're super tender, but at times I feel nothing - I walk around the house mushing them in my hands and just hoping they'll start to hurt). Sometimes I get heartburn, but not often. Harold has been behaving himself lately, so that's been nice, but at the same time, I'm like, "Well, what does this MEAN?" Oh, and I'm thirsty a lot. I've been drinking a ton of fluid and yet I still wake up dehydrated almost every morning, but it's been really cold and the heat runs all night (even though I have it set at 65) so maybe that's why?

The biggest thing is that I'm tired all of the time. Over the weekend I thought I was coming down with something because I'd just get dog tired in the middle of the day. Granted, I had a Friday like you wouldn't believe - I won't go into details, but I will say there was extended drama over Precious Pup's vet visit and about four hours where we thought he needed emergency surgery but then didn't in the end - so maybe the exhaustion is from life itself. I wouldn't be surprised.

I'm hoping that Nugget has lived to see another week. If she can just hang on until next Monday, I can get the MaterniT21 (non-invasive) blood test and see what's the what with her chromosomes. (Or his. Nugget could be a him. The baby implanted more on the right but the yolk sac implanted to the left of the baby, so this is why I think Nugget is a girl. Either that or it's wishful thinking.)

In my fantasies, we get that test and it comes back clean, and I'm just this weird medical mystery where everything looked bad but we still end up with a healthy, happy little baby. I know this isn't the likely ending (I said "in my fantasies," remember?) but I want so desperately for this happen. I've been in pregnancy limbo for a full month now, which doesn't sound like that long but feels like an eternity. And even though the sac looked small too weeks in a row, the baby's heart beat strong both times. I hang on to that heartbeat. I have to.

Right now, it's pretty much all I have.

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