Guess what!
Is that a line? It looks like a line to me . . .
I'm pretty sure that's a line . . .
Well, that's a little more clear.
Yep, we did it. And shockingly fast, too. I was a little hesitant to go too far into this because I have such a large number of dear friends right now, bloggy and otherwise, who are facing a lot of trouble conceiving right now which is so painful. But, of course, this blog is mainly a place for me to record my thoughts and our life, so while sending deepest feelings of support to those suffering through conception troubles right now, here is our story:
Shockingly Fast. All the resources (and I've been reading plenty of them over the last couple years, as anyone who follows Cheap Wine and Cookies likely knows), said that it was likely to take a minimum of three months to get pregnant, with 6-12 months being "normal." Not so much in our case ;-) It happened immediately. Pregnancy is counted from the first day of the last period, which means that our pregnancy is counted from the day I got my IUD out.
And we weren't "seriously" trying at that point because it seemed so unlikely. All the resources said not to "try" more than once a day because it lowers sperm count. Ha, it was Winter Break. We SERIOUSLY broke that little rule. Apparently counts weren't lowered too much . . .
Towards the end of Winter Break, I started getting these horrible, debilitating headaches, and, ultimately, it was Dr. House who first diagnosed our pregnancy.
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| From Cheap Wine and Cookies |
All I could think about while I was laid up with these headaches the last couple days of break was about this episode of House where he diagnoses a woman as being pregnant based on Beccaria's sign, which is (according to House), a strong headache in the base of the skull, and dang if that wasn't exactly what I was feeling. Not to mention some pretty extreme stuffiness.
So, anyway, when we got back to VA a few days later, there were other signs - weird smells, food aversions (namely the fact that the one sip of champagne I took tasted like nail polish remover to me, ugh!), and MacGyver finally made me take a pregnancy test. I insisted to him over and over that my period wasn't even due yet. That even if I were pregnant, it wouldn't show up on the test. He gave me a choice: either take the friggin test or stop whining. So I took the test. When I was taking the test I was certain I didn't care because it was so unlikely that I was pregnant and even more unlikely that the test would pick it up if I were. I set the stick on the counter and went to the bedroom to fold laundry with MacGyver for three minutes. Right. More like 30 seconds. Then I went back in the bathroom to, um, brush my hair . . .
MacGyver: "Are you in there staring at the test?"
Me: "No" (As I watch the sample soak across the paper and a shadow of a line form next to the control line. Are my eyes playing tricks on me?)
MacGyver: Laughs as he watches me through the crack in the bathroom door with my face three inches from the test trying to figure out if there is any possible way that what I'm seeing is really a line. "Right . . ."
A few days later he made me take a digital test. Then I took a blood test. Seems hard to argue with the results at this point . . .
It appears we have a Pip. What is a Pip? I think my very good friend Amanda Jo, to whom I give full credit for the idea to begin with, put it best on her WONDERFUL Blog, Parenting Poppy (which you should definitely check out at your earliest convenience):
"When we first found out I was pregnant, we spent the first couple of days in shock (it's amazing how terrified you can be even after doing something like this on purpose) (at least, I was in shock, MacGyver took the whole thing in stride and seemed to find how serious I took it all to be quite comical) while simultaneously trying to figure out what, if anything, to call this new creature we'd started growing. "Baby" seemed a little presumptuous as we hadn't even reached the fetal stage yet and had all the typical first trimester/miscarriage jitters. "Peanut" was a little too generic. "Embryo" or "fetus" a little too... scientific. [Amanda Jo and T] did what any sensible parents-to-be would do -- we went with the weekly food size comparison offered by BabyCenter -- and "Poppy" was born." (I have taken some liberties with this quote, read the real thing here)
"Pip, like Poppy, is gender neutral, cute, and not too close to a "real" name to weird us out. It keeps us from having to use the oh-so-impersonal "it," while at the same time shying away from the plain "Baby," and it makes us feel as though this little person we're growing is something unique already, even if she's not quite all there just yet . . ."
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| From Cheap Wine and Cookies |
So there you have it! The big news I have been chomping at the bit to announce. We're still not through the first trimester risk period, but if the unspeakable happens, we'll deal with it then. For now, we're reveling. There is so much more to tell, but I'm pretty certain this post is quite long enough. And I am now craving pomegranate.
I will leave you, my lovely readers, with my 6 week belly pic:
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| From Cheap Wine and Cookies |
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