How is pregnancy like a paper cut?

Or, to be even more vague,

"How is a raven like a writing desk?"

I couldn't sleep last night and though up an awesome blog post about how it feels to carry a baby that is half stranger. But of course, I can't remember much of it this morning, except that I had compared it to a paper cut. So bear with me.

When we first got our azoo diagnosis, and we realized that children that were biologically "ours" were out of the question, I felt like I'd been shot. I felt like I was going to bleed to death from the pain of it. Of course, that pain has dulled. Had it not, I'm not sure I would be a functioning human being.

It still hurts though. But it feels more like a paper cut than a bullet hole. How?

Think about a paper cut. A deep one. Sure, it hurts like the dickens, and you're irritated that you just got a paper cut, because really, how useless is that? But the pain fades until you go and use antibacterial stuff or get dish soap in it. Then it stings just as much as it did when you got it.

This DS thing is kind of like that.

Actually, it's a lot like that. It hurt to begin with, that this baby didn't ever have the chance to inherit my husband's gorgeous blue eyes or is perpetual energy or his ability to have a conversation with a tree stump.

Most of the time, I don't think about that. Most of the time, I think about our daughter, and how loved she already is, and how awesome it'll be when she gets here.

But then, something will happen to bring the sting back. Like a complete stranger commenting on how curly her hair is sure to be when they see Jeff and I together. Or conversations about other babies and which parent they look like the most, and knowing that while these conversations will surely happen about Cate, Jeff, and I, they will be skewed. I assume these things will always sting, like a never-ending, never-healing paper cut.

And really, how useless is that?

Would ya like to...Mondays

Would ya like to know what my 3rd beta number was today?

5010!!!

I am so excited and relieved. It needed to be at least 1600 to be doubling every 48 hours. It took f o r e v e r for the Dr.'s office to call. I was scared that it was bad news and that they were waiting for Dr. Wiz to call. I finally called myself and got great news!

My first sonogram is next Thursday, when I will officially be 7 weeks.

This makes it seem more real!

What to say...

I admit, I have the urge to blog, but I'm just not sure what to say. Do I go on and on about how excited I am? How nervous I am? How freaking scared I am about every little cramp and twinge? I'm not sure.

First off, I would like to say that if you would like to stop following me now, feel free. I totally understand. If it saves your sanity, do it.

I am so scared. I'm not scared about being a parent. Not yet, anyway. No, I am so scared something is going to go wrong. I'm afraid of walking in on Monday and finding my beta has dropped. I'm afraid of going in for my first sonogram and not seeing anything. I'm afraid of not hearing a heartbeat. I'm afraid of hearing a hearbeat and losing it. There are a million things I'm terrified of, and I'm only 5 weeks pregnant.

On top of that, I'm angry. I'm angry that normal (read: non-IFers) women probably don't have 99% of the fears I have. I'm angry that they get to take a pregnancy test, see a positive and not feel the need to take 5 more, just in case. They can call up, schedule an ultrasound, and float through the next 9 months without being constantly scared.

I think I'm going to have to stop reading the LFCA. I check it every day and always read every blog posted on there for the day. I leave comments when I can and send silent support and prayers when I have nothing to say. I checked it Tuesday when we got home and it multiplied my fears. I just can't handle reading about miscarriages and missing hearbeats and lost pregnancies. I feel terrible and selfish for it, but I figure I'm scared enough as it is.

I'm sorry this post is so disjointed. I guess I have a lot on my mind.

to borrow from "Alice"

"I sometimes believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast."*

1. I can swallow pills. (after a lifetime of being too afraid to)

2. I can give a shot to another person. (weekly, as a matter of fact)

3. I can live for 12 years without my dad. (and still miss him daily)

4. I can cook. (I used to burn water!)

5. I am a teacher in one of the best districts in the state.

6. I can (and will) get pregnant this month.

Five of these were impossible and yet have happened. Number six will come too.

The quote comes from Tim Burton's "Alice in Wonderland"

just a little rant

I am being a terrible teacher this morning. My students are making Christmas paper chains with spelling words instead of actual work. That's so I can vent a bit about two things that are bothering me.

#1: I was reading the school newspaper published at my husband's school. The cover had a blown-up picture of a sonogram. The headline article was an interview with a 15 year old pregnant with twins. (No surprise there, it's Texas.) But in the interview, the girl said "It only takes one time." Does it? Does it really? Well, thanks for clearing that up! I'll go and just do it once!

#2: I work with a woman who has been trying to get pregnant since this summer. (5 months) She is very upset that she's not pregnant yet, and thinks she fully understands what I'm going through. This really bothers me. I feel selfish thinking I'm going through hell after 15 months when some couples have been struggling for years. In all likelyhood, she'll be pregnant by summer vacation and forget she ever worried.

In completely unrelated news, the author of one of the blogs I follow has had something go wrong with her adoption. Please pray for her.