My Reaction - Too Much or Not Enough?

Today I got a kind of shocking phone call at work that makes me think my boss (whom I shared information with in confidence) has been a little too free in sharing that confidence with others. Yes, we are a tight knit organization. Yes, I have know most of the members of the assoc. for a decade. But I'm thinking not only did my boss (if she did indeed spill the beans) show a serious lapse in judgment here, but on a personal note, shared medical details of mine that were mine to share.

Anyway, here was my email to her today (she's away on a business trip). Told hubby about the incident and of course he is furious and says I should threaten litigation. Come on now. Don't be daft. I am not going to threaten to sue someone who I know in her heart means well and for a decade now has been pretty d*mn supportive of everything I have wanted to do with my life - even when it made things seriously inconvenient for her. Ok, here's the message:

I really appreciate your enthusiasm and support around my pregnancy. It is wonderful to work in an environment where I feel I and my future family will be valued. But I just received some congratulations from an employee at ____ that was a little more detailed than I would have liked. She mentioned that _____ had shared some of the info you had shared with ____ and then went on to tell me about a family member of her own who had cancer, couldn’t have children, used artificial techniques and went on to have children. It was a heartfelt congratulations from this person, but I was very, very shocked and surprised to hear it in the way that I did.

While I’m neither shy nor ashamed of the path we’ve taken toward parenthood, I would like to keep such details as my story to tell and to be able to select the listeners. I am uncomfortable with some people, especially those whom I interact with professionally, knowing my very private details. IVF and related means are still frowned upon by some and I wouldn’t want those judgments to interfere with the work that I need to do.

Am I being too sensitive here? Not sensitive enough? Some of my own co-workers don't know the full extent of my story - at least they haven't heard it from me. I suppose I should assume it's all out of the bag now. Like I said, I'm not saying that I wouldn't have eventually told the people in question, but dammit, I wanted to be the one to make that decision, not have it come out like another piece of water cooler gossip. I think the fact that I even had to compose this email is ridiculous. Hubby thinks I was far too tame. What do you think? Where do I go from here?

Phew!

I have really been looking forward to this morning.

And now, I'm so happy and relieved with the news I received: 1.) Daisy has a BFP!!! This is just the coolest. Not like I've ever met Daisy in person, but our cycles have been cosmically connected ever since she and I both had canceled cycles followed by 2 rounds of BFNs. Daisy took some time off and now....well, now I am hoping she joins me in twinland. 2.) the seedlings are great. As you know, I've been needing some reassurance. And I got that this morning.

At the doc's this morning, I had my first experience with a doppler, which found one heartbeat right away. Strong, fast, loud! Maybe I got a little teary. But then we searched and searched and searched a little more and couldn't locate a second one. I think the nurse saw me getting anxious and said, "forget about this. Let's go get an ultrasound!" I could barely eek out, "yes. please. can we?"

The room was free and I went inside to fret just a bit before the NP came in. We gelled up, moved the wand around, and then saw two big headed bodies - one getting kicked in the head by its sibling.

But don't worry. Not for long. They were both moving like crazy! Flipping, spinning, and um, kicking. Each other. How can I not feel that? The nurse pointed out the arms, the legs, the spines, the heartbeats....no pee pees yet, but Nurse confided that she had decided the primary kicker was a boy.

But maybe she doesn't know how feisty us ladies can be.

But I Don't Feel Tardy

So, I suppose it had been a while since I posted. Sorry about that.

I'm cool. Hubby's cool. The seedlings are, for all I know, chillin'. We are 14 weeks today. My next appointment is Tuesday. And I am really, really looking forward to it.

Will I get an ultrasound? Will we get to see some heart beats? What guarantee will they give me to ensure that something's still going down down there? What's the protocol for these "normal" OB appointments?

Because maybe I haven't posted because I have yet to feel it. You know, feeeeel it.

The other weekend, I was indulging in an evening of total control over the remote control while hubby was working late (and I now understand why I rarely get that privilege when there is more than one person on the couch) and I found myself watching Velvet Goldmine, one of the worst movies ever made, but one of my favorite. Jonathan Rhys Myers, Ewan McGregor and Christian Bale? All tarting it up at 70s glam boys? Come on. What's not to love? Anyway, at one point, Ewan is writhing on stage in what is obviously his best Iggy Pop impersonation and is screaming, imploring,

can you feel it . . .
I got a feeling
I got a feeling
I wanna feeeeeeel it
oh, I wanna feeeeeel it . . . . . . .

And I knew exactly what he was talking about.

I'm feeling great. Energized, non-pukey. Looking fatter, but was I really all that svelte 14 weeks ago? Happy. Functional. Hubby mentioned the other morning, "Oh my god, somebody's got their funny back."

So, can someone please verify that I am indeed pregnant?

You Must Le-ea-rn

Do these little guys have ears yet?

I hope so. Because last night, me and the seedlings saw the best hip hop emcee ever. Ever.

A message on my phone yesterday afternoon asked me if I wanted to cover an event for the local alt newspaper that I write for. I knew the caller was connected with a local hip hop posse. (yes, I just said posse. In this particular situation, it fits and I couldn't really think of a better term to describe a tightly knit yet independent group of emcees, dj's, promoters, you know, a bunch of kids trying to make something cool happen in their hometown. So there you have it. Posse)

So, hubby and I pondered. hmm. What's going on tonight? What did we forget about? What show could he mean? And then it hit us both. Holy shit!

KRS-ONE.

At this point, I had to tamper down my excitement knowing that hubby would be leaving for work in just an hour or so and would most likely miss the entire show of his favorite hip hop artist. The person he claims changed his world view at first listen. The person he will, without hesitation, say is among the best and the brightest of the entire genre. Oh sweetie. He'd have to live vicariously through me and the twins, who would be getting their second dose of a live hip hop show in utero.

D*mn. These kids are spoiled.

So, I called my pal S., pulled out my press pass, had hubby set his camera to the most idiot-proof setting possible and switch out the new lens to an older one and off I went.

Here's a sampling of the conversations me and hubby's camera had:

"Hey, take a picture of me!"

"Sure."

"Ok. Now let me take a picture of you! It's cool. I'm in a photography class...."

"Hmm. I don't know about that."

"C'mon. It's only fair."

"Ok. But if you harm this camera, my life is in your hands. Know that."

"Cool. cool. [posing and ridiculous camera banter ensues] See! I told you I was good. Look. Here you are.....Damn! Your titties is huge!"

"Um, yeah, and believe me, it surprises me more than you. P.S. I'm pregnant so I think they're supposed to be like that."

"Right on, girl! you gotta feed those little ones!!"

And he gave me a hug, laughed and walked away. S. shook her head and asked, "did that guy really just say something about your "titties"? He did. He did. And somehow it was quite sweet.

S. perched herself on a stool towards the back of the club. I went to the stage to try to get some crowd shots and to get ready for the show. And oh my goodness, what a show. What a great frigging show. Maybe I doubted my hubby's claims. Maybe I thought to myself, ok, how good could this guy be?

He was amazing. And the vibe in the club was among the most positive I have ever experienced. Nearly ever person knew every word of his songs. Everyone laughed at the punchlines in his freestyles. The show went on and on.

And ended just as hubby came rushing through the doors as his shift ended. Damn. He caught a glimpse of his hero, but not in action. He was a great sport, promised that my excitement was enough for the both of us, then took me for some late night pizza. We hung out. I tried to relay the songs KRS did and didn't do - at one point, hubby ended up pulling out his mp3 player and just rolling down the album tracks with me going yes, yes, I think so, nope, not that one. Satisfied, we all went to bed.

What a great night.

What? No Shot?

Are you sure?

Do you mean it?

Do you really mean I don't have to contort myself into unnatural positions propped on pillows to poke my own butt tonight since hubby is at work?

That is frigging awesome.

Calliope said that the first night sans shot is divine. She's right.

So what am I doing with all this free time? Well, first I stuck my saran wrap back in the kitchen where it belongs. how nice to use it for wrapping cheese and other leftovers instead of the numbing cream on my *ss.

Now, I'm having my own private, pregnancy-craving dictated tailgate by myself on my living room floor. Honeycrisp apples (have you had these yet? They are the bomb!), cheddar cheese, and a huge bowl of cold sauerkraut. Oh hells yes. Fight on State!

At halftime, I'll sift through my free goodies bag I got from Motherhood.

You bet. I went there. Technically, I can still fit into most of my clothes. Most of the time, it's less than flattering. But the main impetus for the mall trip was my annual conference that's coming up in the end of October. I know that by then, me being able to wear all of my suits and business attire will be but a memory. I also know that this is probably the last work-free weekend I can count on between now and then. Things get intense. In other words, it was now or never.

The last time I waited until the last minute to pick up a few new things for conference, I ended up dashing to Ann Taylor Loft and pretty much purchasing anything I laid eyes on, threw it in the car and figured I'd figure it out when I got there. Of course, I ended up wearing and keeping 2 items and returning all the rest. I'm not willing to gamble like that with a figure that I am assuming will be less than easy to grab-n-go for.

So, my MIL graciously agreed to meet me at the mall and help me suss out some duds that would be suitable for work. Can I say we both started giggling uncontrollably at the sight of me and the "fake belly" they have in the dressing rooms to make sure the clothes will fit into the next few months? Wow. What a visual.

A Post I Wish I Had Written

From This Blog to God's Ears?

As I wait for my ride...

Ridiculously quick update as I wait for my brother to come get me and dump me in the river (with my kayak, of course) cuz I got the doc's permission and it is glorious, last glimpse of summer kind of day:

• 10 wks and 6 days and all is well.
• Went to our first "real" ob appointment and was delighted that I forgot how much I loved my doctor. Before our foray into the world of REs, I had been seeing his wife (also an ace doc) simply because her schedule had coincided better with mine, but now I'm back with the man who always seems to be smiling and laughing. And I love that.
  
• Like Calliope, was completely underwhelmed (but still thankful, very thankful) with the grainy quality of the non-vah-jay-jay scan. Was enough to see two little hearts pump-pumping away. There were rumours of hand waving but d*mn if I could decipher it. I guess the HD version of the seedlings at the RE has us spoiled.
• Got all kinds of binders and booklets and pamphlets on pre-natal classes and free stuff (and hells yes, I signed up for it all. Bring on the free).

My thoughts on this: I know that many of us hold off on signing up for freebies, planning showers, thinking about the nursery even, because of previous disappointments and losses. Understanding that all, I have made the conscious decision to embrace my pregnancy and see it as completely normal and healthy until proven otherwise. My mantra: "If you can't imagine it, you can't create it." So I am busy imaging the little spitfire hellion revolutionaries that I cannot wait to bring into the world.

And I bought a hottie mommie t-shirt this week.

What!?!? It was on sale.

hubby is not so cavalier, but he is humoring me. I think once we finally hit 12 weeks and dispose of the needles and the gauze and the suppositories and pills it will feel a little safer to him to shout it to the world.

My entire office now knows and that's nice. Nice to not have to speak about things behind closed doors with one other co-worker. Nice to have a little (not a lot, mind you) of understanding if I work from home for an entire morning or need to sneak out of a meeting for food. (don't make me hungry. You won't. like. me. when I'm hungry.....)

That being said, work is still kicking my ass. One of my co-workers decided to "retire" just a few weeks before our largest event of the year (thanks, buddy). And even if I have found him to be for the most part not very helpful and perhaps wished for his departure more than once, I find the timing of this callous and selfish and it guarantees there will be even more work piled on those of us that remain and are already swamped. Sh*t.

But it means we are back to an all female office and right now, that feels right. I think in the midst of this economic craziness going on in the States and, in particular, our sector, our little non-profit office has embraced a kind of "what?? whaddya got? what makes you think we can't take it?" kind of attitude.

Oh wait, maybe that's just me.