And then there was one

Our ultrasound confirmed this morning that we've lost Baby B. The news wasn't entirely surprising -- the little guy had been measuring a few days behind from the get-go -- but we allowed ourselves to get a little hopeful when we heard both heartbeats last week.

Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel. I'm sad, as I loved the little guy already. And I haven't cried yet, which is weird for me -- I've been a veritable waterworks for the past few weeks. But I was worried that he (by the way, I obviously have no basis that he was a "he," just my gut feeling) wouldn't be healthy. And I was a little worried about how we were going to pull off the twin thing with two working parents. But I totally would have gotten over that.

So, now we wait. I may bleed, I may not. I may cramp, I may not. The doctor said that usually at this early stage, the "demised twin" (isn't that the most hateful phrase?) usually just reabsorbs.

The good news is that Baby A (I really need to think of a better name) is measuring perfectly at 8w4d, has a strong heartbeat (164 BPM), and discernable arms and legs! He (again with the "he," I can't explain it) even waved at us, as if to say "Look at me, Ma! I'm still here!!"

We're totally smitten.

Happy OMG You Rock Day!

Happy OMG You Rock Day! Thank you to my anonymous gifter, who sent me this lovely panoply of foot-pampering paraphernalia:


Have I given the impression that I enjoy a good foot massage? :) The Mr. has got his work cut out for him. Thank you, thank you!

Speaking of feet, I will be spending my day with my fantastic mom getting some mani/pedi action, and also going out for steak. I am going to try to refrain from turning green at the table.

Today can be a really hard day. I want to take a moment to wish everyone a happy and peaceful day, and say thank you for the support you've all given me over the past few months. There are a lot of you out there who understand me in a way that no one in my "real" life does, and that's a really special thing. I am thinking of all of you today, and imagining us out at some fabulous brunch, toasting each other with a bunch of mimosas, enjoying the sun, and tossing a big middle finger to Hallmark.

FabFooFri -- taking the week off

As thinking about, much less eating, most foods this week has been a dicey proposition at best, I'm afraid I've got nothing fabulous to report. I've been subsisting on smoothies, bread and things with bread in them, and fizzy water. It's weird -- I'm hungry, but very few things sound good.

I have to admit, though -- I did eat both a burrito and McDonald's this week. On the same day. And the McDonald's wasn't a salad -- it was a full-on burger and fries par-tay. Which, I guess, was fairly fabulous.

We've got another ultrasound scheduled for Monday, so I'm sure I'll spend most of the weekend stressing about that. Wishing a happy weekend to everyone -- and pay no mind to Sunday's holiday-that-shall-not-be-named (aka OMG You Rock! Day).

I'm on ur pillow, stealing ur zzzzzz's

Anyone who's ever spent time on LOLCats knows that cats are weird. Ours are no exception. We call them Crack Kitties (affectionately, of course), and are convinced that they keep a stash of controlled substances hidden behind the sofa, which turns them from sweet, docile creatures into raving fiends more or less instantaneously.

Lately, I've been so tired that I've missed most of their middle-of-the-night shenanigans (i.e., wind sprints over the bed). But I've also been HOT -- and I'm not talking Angelina Jolie hot. I'm talking sweaty, smelly, cranky hot. My solution? Crank up the AC. Sure, I'm costing us a hundred extra bucks a month on the electric bill, but MAMA NEEDS HER SLEEP.

You'd think, since cats are covered in fur, that they could handle it. But NO. I've woken up several times this week (for one of my multiple nightly trips to pee) to one stretched out flush against one side of my furnace-y body, and the other one either flush on the other side or wedged in my crotch. Once, Big Boy (not his real name, but an accurate description of his physique) was lounging across my legs, resulting in a legs-asleep knee-buckling crawl to the bathroom. And then, when I return, they've both curled up on the warm (wet, sweaty) spot that I've left on my side of the bed. Which would be kind of cute most of the time.

But at 3 a.m.? Not so much.

Oh, and don't get me started on the barfs. Keeping my own self from ralphing has been hard enough without greeting the day by stepping in a warm puddle of kitty hurl.

I'm not flaky and irresponsible, just pregnant

Thanks for everyone's kind words yesterday. I'm feeling MUCH better today (4 back-to-back chick flicks in bed will do that for a person). I am a little queasy, but that's actually more of a relief than anything else at this point.

I decided, after all of the convoluted excuses I had to make yesterday to justify cancelling a flight and a meeting, to come out to my boss today. It's way earlier than I would have liked, but it's looking like monitoring is going to be a pretty regular part of my life, and in this economy (and right before review period) I would hate to be coming across as flaky. I am EXTREMELY Type A at work. Since my boss is 3,000 miles away, I had more or less been able to finesse all of the IVF appointments, but it was just starting to get ridiculous.

She was great. Thrilled for me, told me I could work from home whenever I wanted, told me to stop hopping on planes -- basically a big love-fest. I'm so relieved -- I didn't expect her to be not great about it, but I didn't really know what to expect.

I haven't told the folks that work for me yet -- I don't really need to make excuses to them about appointments out of the office, right? -- but probably will in the next month or so. I'm sure they know something's up -- I just don't want them to think that that something is that I'm looking for a new job.

It's a little weird that my boss knows I'm knocked up but most of my family does not. These past few months have been really weird that way.

Scary morning

I woke up this morning at 4:30 to catch my planned 6:30 flight to LA, and had a big brown spot in my underwear. Needless to say, I freaked. I haven't had any sort of spotting at any point during the whole IVF process (and I've never been a spotter in general), so I feared the worst.

I told the Mr. what was going on, then hopped in the shower, still hemming and hawing about whether to take my work trip (big 10:30 meeting). When I got out of the shower, the spotting had increased -- still brown, but maybe progressing. And I was feeling a bit of cramping. At this point, I decided to cancel my trip. The Mr. wanted to go to the ER, but all I could think of was that if we were going to get bad news, I didn't want to hear about it from some random doc in some random hospital.

At about 5:30, I had my RE paged. He was super (as usual) -- said that spotting was totally normal, told me to stop taking the low-dose aspirin I'd been taking, and said that if things hadn't improved by 8:00, to call and make an appt for an ultrasound. (I was scheduled for Thursday, but no effing way was I going to wait this out). Things did improve -- the spotting slowed/stopped -- but I still made an appointment for 10:30.

Everything looks OK. Peanut A is going strong, measuring 7w3d and beating away at 147 BPM. Peanut B is still lagging behind at 6w6d. We saw B's heartbeat for the first time, at 127 BPM. (And we heard both HBs for the first time, which is easily the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.) The RE (different one for today's appt) doesn't think we need to worry at this point, but still thinks we need to wait and see how things develop with B. So we'll have another ultrasound early next week.

We talked a little bit about what might have caused the spotting. I did have kind of an active day yesterday -- a longer-than-average workout, followed by a bunch of errands, which included lifting some heavy grocery bags that I probably shouldn't have. I was just feeling good for the first time in a few days (less nausea, a little more energy), and overdid it a little, I guess. The RE also reminded me that in twin pregnancies, spotting and cramping are more likely, since there's a lot more going on in there. I'm supposed to take it easy for the next few days, whatever that means.

So, I'm home, drinking diet ginger ale, missing my meeting, but happy that things are OK for the moment.

I have a feeling a long nap is going to be in order this afternoon.

FabFooFriday #6: Pho

It's raining here in Northern California, and tonight we're lighting a fire, putting the family iPod on shuffle, settling into the recliners, and digging into the ultimate takeout comfort food: Pho.

For those of you who've never had it, Pho (pronounced "fuh," as in, "what the fuh?") is Vietnamese soup -- lots of spicy (or not, if you don't like the spice) broth, lots of rice noodles, and meat. The meat is usually beef, although you can get chicken, and if you're really adventurous you can get things like tripe or tendon. (Ugh, just typing that brought a nice little wave of nausea -- but pretty much anything does that these days.) I usually stick with brisket and sometimes a meatball or two. You garnish this deliciousness with some combination of bean sprouts, cilantro, and hot peppers.

Oh, it's so good. I didn't discover it until about two years ago, and I can't believe I lived the first 30 years of my life without it. It's such a great meal in that it fills you up and warms you up, but doesn't make you feel disgusting like, say, eating a whole pizza might.

And tonight, when nothing sounds good except ginger ale and bread, I've discovered a meal that I'm actually looking forward to.

I'll take it!