Just possibly a little ‘p-word’, or, no slapping

Well.

To everyone who stopped by to say congratulations, I love you guys, group hug! Group hug! Ach, must blow my nose now.

I think I have given in for the moment and accepted that I am, at this precise moment, growing a blastocyst into an embryo. I say accepted. This is short-hand for ‘have given up coffee and camembert, am feeling wistful about the coffee, tendency to stop dead on beholding a pregnant woman in the street and gape like a beached fish getting out of hand.’

H is alternating between telling me I am precious and wonderful, and staring blankly into the middle-distance. Apparently, this is normal.

So, for all those who really do not wish to read obsessive dwelling on p-word symptoms, by all means look away now.

Definite Official Symptoms, As Mentioned In Books:

  1. No period. It may not be Officially Late for those overachievers who have 16-day luteal phases, but I am four days late. Hah hah!
  2. Boobs. Oy, but they’re uncomfortable. They feel likes bags of rocks. Bags of rocks some complete bastard is poking with a litter-stick at random intervals. And none of my bras feel quite right, and the two newest are TOO BLOODY SMALL. Considering that I am approximately 17 minutes p-word, this is ridiculous.
  3. On Saturday I had heart-burn. On Sunday I had heartburn and weird swilling feelings in my stomach. Monday morning I dry-retched on the loo at the scent of my own body-waste. And had heart-burn. And felt vaguely sick in the evening. I am pretending I did not, as, like I said, I am approximately 17 minutes gone and feeling sick already is wet! Wet I tell you!
  4. Hyper-sensitivity to the smell of urine, garbage, the fish-counter in the supermarket, and the utter freak who picked a can of deodorant up while I was standing near her, staring at body-lotion, and SPRAYED HERSELF ALL OVER WITH IT.
  5. Metal-mouth. I feel like I have licked the contents of my wallet clean.

Could Be Anything Symptoms:

  1. Since Thursday, vague uterine aches and cramps, very like the ones I usually get the day before my period starts in earnest, and cheerfully going on all day. This is allegedly normal, but is freaking me the hell out already.
  2. Acne. My chin looks like a relief map of the Deccan Traps.
  3. Tendency to leak tears at tragic news on the radio, other people’s children misbehaving, having to walk past the cribs and cradles to get to the loo in John Lewis’s yesterday, etc. etc.
  4. Headache. Could be the heat. It is HOT in Blighty these days. Can’t take ibuprofen. Argh. Gah.

General Madness:

  1. I have borrowed four books on the p-word from the library already. What can I say? Control-Freak seeks Information Overload.
  2. I peed on a stick yesterday morning. Positive, if still a little faint. And then, when I got in yesterday evening, I peed on another stick, just to check, as if the ucky tummy and rockery-boobs weren’t enough. Even more positive. So there. Managed to not pee on a stick this morning. I still have quite a few pee-sticks. I can’t see this restraint lasting.
  3. Have nick-named the blastocyst/embryo already. On discovering that this week was dedicated to growing a neural groove and a notochord, I commented that it was just like a Pikaia – the earliest chordate we have fossils of (which looked very much like an inch-long worm but crucially wasn’t, as worms do not have spinal chords). After a few hours I realised I was thinking of It as ‘Pikaia’. H has agreed this will do as a blog name, but also thinks I am a Colossal Geek.

The Big Thing that is oppressing H and myself is Telling Other People. Naturally, I need to tell the ACU, as they will be expecting me to have called and announced the beginning of my third Clomid cycle by now. I have not a clue as to whether they will hang on to me for a few more weeks just in case, or send me straight to the GP. I can only find out by calling them. Ergo, I have not called them yet. Silly May.

But then there’s Family and Friends. We could leave it until Week Twelve. That’s considered the ‘safe’ time. On the other hand, if this does all go belly-up and we haven’t told, do we want the family to carry cluelessly on, trampling on our raw and aching hearts? Which they will. And if we have told, will their well-meaning attempts at consolation make me commit ritual homicide? And in any case, it might not go belly-up. (Typing that last sentence made me feel very peculiar). I have taken to frantically announcing that I shan’t tell at all and just let them guess at Christmas. H pretends I am just joking.

Dear blog-pals, including the lovely delurkers who were so sweet to my pee-sticks, what do you think? Seriously? When should we tell? And how? Please? Advice, thoughts, anecdote, assvice even? H and I feel completely lost about this.

Caveat: Having just been given a nice new shiny job at work, the very same week I discovered the p-word status, I am NOT telling work until I either a) am the size of a Blue Whale and not telling has become beyond ridiculous, b) being sick every half-hour (God forbid) and therefore HAVE to explain or c) in labour, whichever comes first.

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10 responses to “Just possibly a little ‘p-word’, or, no slapping

  • MsPrufrock

    I’m of a nervous sort, so I didn’t tell anyone until 13w. Well, we did tell my Mom and The Dude’s parents because they knew of the IVF and you can’t really keep the result secret for that long. Obviously, to each their own and all that, but I’ll admit it – I get a bit annoyed with people who announce pregnancies before the pee even dries on the sticks. I think there is a lot more explaining to do if something goes wrong and you’ve told everyone, than if it stays a secret until the biggest hurdle is crossed. That is not to say, of course, that bad news can’t happen later, as any good blog reader knows it can. I will say that once I crossed into 13w territory I exhaled. A little.

    I’m a regular little miss mary sunshine, ain’t I?

  • Heather

    We immediately told our families, because they knew about our fertility treatments and what day we would find out. We waited to tell extended family (grandparents/cousins) until we saw the heartbeat.

    I wanted to wait to tell everyone else but BigP was so excited he was telling everyone in ear shot – literally. He told strangers at the store. So, I ended up spilling the beans earlier than I wanted to – but thankfully it has worked out. I still haven’t told some people (I’m 17 weeks) and I’m fat enough that people haven’t started asking yet. Maybe I will tell everyone else after we know the sex in a few weeks?

  • deanna

    Restraint, be damned! You’ve got the pee sticks, woman—put them to good use! (and give yourself some invaluable peace of mind.)

    As for telling, there was no stopping us, even though in hind-sight we should have waited at least a little. We told everyone right away—-and, I do mean everyone (family, friends, co-workers, random strangers…) The reason why I say I wish we would have waited some is that people got very excited, and then there was nothing else to tell for many weeks. They seemed to just expect that I would balloon up overnight (afterall, that’s how it happens in the movies!) My not ballooning caused some concerned folks to fret and worry that something wasn’t right, when really, it’s just that I was STILL only about 10 weeks along during the heat of their concern.

    That said, I wouldn’t advocating waiting as late as 12 weeks. This is an exciting time for you and H. Why should you have to hold all that happiness in for such a long time? Not to sound morose, but nothing is ever guaranteed in this pregnancy game, no matter which trimester a person is in. Unexpected things happen when they want to, not by the guidelines of statistics. You should get to enjoy this amazing news and celebrate whenever you feel ready.

  • megan

    the telling is a hard one.
    please don’t take this the wrong way, but here is the logic that i used when i was pregnant with Auden — i told the people that i knew i would want to lean on if things went wrong. i learned quickly with my miscarriage before Auden that i was sick of only sharing bad news with people and that if i got pregnant again i would tell my *friends* so that they could celebrate with me instead of only having to help me through the bad news. does that make sense? i hope it doesn’t sound too doom and gloom, but that is what i did. i was in a bit of a different place though as my pregnancy was hot hot hot on the heels of that miscarriage.
    in short — tell everyone you love. don’t tell work.
    i’m so happy for you, May. this is great news.

  • Rita

    Hooray.
    You can drink red raspberry tea all throughout your pregnancy. You can drink ginger tea for nausea.
    I am so excited for you. You must keep us updated on everything.
    As for telling – close family right away and then everyone else when the time comes
    Rita

  • geohde

    My two cents? Tell early to those you would tell if it went pear.

    Tell everyone else when the head is crowning, especially work,

    J

  • thalya

    mazel tov on the new job and the pink lines. Very very excited for you.

  • Emily

    Yaaaay! Congrats! I just read through your whole blog from the beginning, I love your writing, so funny and smart. I was just telling my boyfriend that I wish it was a book so I could take it with me and read it other places (I really need a laptop, I know!)

  • Pamela Jeanne

    What a WEEK! I’m just catching up on all your news. So excited for you….!

  • Can I breathe now? Please? « Nuts in May

    […] you, dear kind people, for your comments, the congratulations, the sympathy, the advice (and the outrageous flattery from Emily – I went pink to my hair-roots). It was wonderful, you are all wonderful, and I’d buy you all […]

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