single mother

The Two Weeks After Finding Out I’m Pregnant

by lisadiane

Ok, I’m pregnant, now what?

Now I start to learn what that really means. First mind-blowing thing I learned is that the day I found out I was pregnant, I was considered 4 weeks pregnant. Even though I was inseminated 2 weeks before. I mean, I know I’m bad at math, but this just doesn’t add up. Apparently, they start counting on day 1 of your cycle. So hello, today, I’m 6 weeks pregnant! Even though I’m technically only 4 weeks pregnant. #confused (PS, week 4 the baby was the size of a poppy seed, week 5 the baby was the size of an apple seed, and this week the baby is a BLUEBERRY! And it’s making a face this week! Crazy!)

On the first day I found out I was pregnant, week 4 (I know, I can’t and you probably can’t either, but just roll with it) my doctor sent me for blood work to check my Progesterone and HCG levels. Progesterone helps prepare the uterus for pregnancy (which is good) and if the number is low, miscarriage could be inevitable. (I had a 47 and the standard range is 11.22-90) HCG is the hormone that you get when you are pregnant (or you inject into yourself while trying to get pregnant via IUI). My first bloodtest showed me at a 77 (You are supposed to be 50-500 in your first week) She made me go back 4 days later to confirm, as these numbers are supposed to double or more every 48 hours. 4 days later my HCG level was 450. Okkkkkuuuuuur. Girl, I’m pregnant.

I called to make my first appointment where they do an ultrasound. This normally happens around weeks 6-10. They can’t get me in until week 11. I’m all over here like, “So…. what am I supposed to do until then? Just sit around all pregnant and shit?” I can’t believe they just trust me to be doing the right things until then. Thank God for my sister in law Natalie turned Doula who always knows the right thing to say. And the internet. (PS: A Doula is a birth companion or coach who keeps you cool and calm and educated)

An example of Natalie’s telepathic Doula skills: I left my dog with them the day after I found out I was pregnant to go up north with a big group of friends to party on Green Lake for a couple of nights. (FYI, “Party” for me that weekend meant drinking water and watching everyone get ripped, and then leaving a night early because I was tired AF and soooooooo wanted my own bed) On my way out the door, Natalie says, “By the way, you should experience some cramping over the next few weeks, and that’s normal.” Seriously, if she wouldn’t have told me that, I would be FREAKING OUT. So. Much. Cramping.

Speaking of symptoms, I feel great. Seriously, great. The only symptoms I have at the moment are:

-Sensitive Nipples. Yes, I said nipples. I’m sure there are men reading this and giggling because I said nipples. It’s literally my most predominant symptom and the one that reassures me that I’m still pregnant. The rest of these symptoms are just… light.

-Tired AF. But I LOVE to sleep so bring it. I have even taken TWO naps in the the past 2 weeks! Totally unheard of for me. I mean, look how good I sleep at night, why would I ever need a nap? Yes, I’m an insanely good sleeper. But we should also talk about how amazing this sleep app is. It’s been a game changer for me. Sleep Cycle. Download it.

The Sleep Cycle App. Literally the most amazing app I own. I’ll tell you more about it some other time.

-No more snoring and a smaller waistline. Ok, so these symptoms might have more to do with me not drinking anymore, but still, GREAT symptoms!

-Cramps on Cramps on Cramps. This is not my favorite thing because they feel just like period cramps so I’m constantly thinking I’m going to get my period. Apparently right now inside my body, my uterus is stretching and contorting, and building an ADDITIONAL ORGAN (I can’t. I just can’t.) called a placenta to hold the baby. As the baby grows inside, it will just shove all my organs wherever it pleases and the tiny human will take over.

-Not. Hungry. At all. Not mad about it! Don’t forget, I’m still super single so I don’t have that “Your husband will love you no matter what you look like” situation on my hands so I really have to keep my shit tight during this process and not go overboard. Healthy body. Healthy body. Healthy body. I still laugh about this one. (Because it’s SO not me. Girl can eat.) One day, I made myself 3 different lunches because I hadn’t eaten at all that day and wanted to make sure I was taking care of my little travel buddy. I didn’t want any of them. I forced myself to just eat the 3rd meal. It was tomato soup. When it was 95 degrees outside. I don’t get it.

-I’m SO THIRSTY! I’ve never drank this much water in my life. I can’t get enough. Must be ice cold or I’m sad.

The “Cinnamon Tonic” Mocktail from Bodegon

I’ve had lots of energy, I’m not crabby, no nausea (everyone cross your fingers), and I’ve been sleeping around a 95% sleep quality every night. My goal during this pregnancy is to find the best Mocktail in the city (So far Elsa’s, Bodegon, and The Diplomat are in the running.) I’m reading a book my friend gave me called “Expecting 411” which in hindsight I should have read prior to getting pregnant. (The chapter on “Labor” is making me queasy, and I literally had to skip the chapter on “Complications”) I’m using the “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” App, and the “Ovia” App. (per my doula, Natalie) I hate the WTEWYE App though because there are all these “chat rooms” and stuff of people due around the same time as you and you get sucked into their madness. So I’m over than one. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Whatever happens, happens.

I’m loving all the support from all the people, thank you. My desperate plea is that you don’t forget to invite me to things just because I’m pregnant. Rent the Runway has a great selection of maternity wear gala dresses and formal events. (I have an unlimited subscription) I’ve also discovered I still have my sea legs so boating is on the table. Keep in mind, I make an excellent designated driver, and I’m the same level of fun sober or not. Promise. I have 7 and a half more months to rip it up alone before my new travel buddy gets here and the rules change. So call me maybe.

Thanks for joining me on my journey!

Lisa

Sushi is tired after reading “Expecting 411”

What is IUI? Round 1.

by lisadiane

Let me break it down for you in layman’s terms and tell you about the process from my eyes. Complete transparency here though, so stop reading now if loosely accurate medical terms and reference to many bodily fluids give you the heeby jeebies. I’m going to tell the story of my first round of IUI, starting on Day one of my 28 day cycle. (For the gents, that’s a standard period cycle.)

Day 1: I get my period! Yay! First time ever being excited to be on a period! On day one, I’m supposed to call the doctor to alert them that I’m ready to try my first round of IUI. They only let you try 3 or 4 times. I imagine that’s because the drugs are pretty hard core on your body, and it’s also about a 25% chance each time of working so by round 4 if it doesn’t work, there might be something else going on. It’s after 5pm though, so the office is closed and I have to wait until the next day.

Day 2: I call the doctors office and they tell me to take out a pad of paper for my checklist of items to accomplish in the next couple of weeks. 1. Order the sperm. Ship it to us to arrive on day twelve. Not earlier, not later. The cryotank only holds for five days. 2. Order your trigger shot of HCG from a specialty pharmacy in Arizona to arrive on day eleven. 3. Go pick up five days worth of Letrozole at the pharmacy and start taking it on day five. It’s going to fire up your eggs. 4. Schedule an ultrasound to measure your follicles on day eleven. 5. Go in tomorrow on day three to get bloodwork done. Did you get all that?

The cryotank that the sperm arrives in

Day 3: Bloodwork. I am now a regular at my local blood place. Good thing I love needles and have the worlds best blood donation vein in the crook of my arm.

Day 4: Spent the day reviewing sperm donor options and narrowing down the final selection. Also spent the night out on the town considering live donation options. Just kidding. I spent 17 years doing that, it’s a little late now for the live donation option. I’ve committed. Also spent the day googling “pelvic ultrasound”, “HCG”, “trigger shot”, “Letrozole”, and “Follicles”.

Day 5: Took two little pills of Letrozole in the morning with some food. These are pills that I am going to take for 5 days. Letrozole is a pill that is normally used to treat breast cancer. In this case, it’s going to give me extra hormones to increase the number eggs I produce. Fire em up!

Day 6-9: Holy. Crap. Extra hormones are no joke. I’m a “power through anything”, “never had a sick day in my entire career”, “what broken leg?” kind of girl. But these little suckers are strange. My side effect? Brainlessness. Completely airheaded. I would be talking to someone and looking directly past them. Distracted by EVERYTHING. Couldn’t focus on anything. If I met anyone new in those 5 days, I’m certain they thought I was an idiot.

Day 10-11: Let there be peace. Calm before the storm. Can I get some tequila please?

Day 12.1: The ultrasound. Yes, you were paying attention! It was supposed to be Day 11, but Day 11 was a Sunday. Yes, the IUI process allows for office hours. The ultrasound was internal. That was a little bit of a surprise. Nothing like the movies with the jelly on the stomach. The technician took her instrument and went right into my ovary. She counted and measured follicles. And then she went into my left ovary. And burst into a smile. “Wow! TWO giant dominant follicles!” (Still don’t get the follicles thing, I had not googled anything about dominant follicles or multiple follicles on Day 4. Why don’t they teach you able this stuff in school?)

Day 12.2: The doctors appointment. The doctor who is actually doing the IUI procedure walks in and… I KNOW HER!!! Oh Smallwaukee. She’s one of my best friends sisters best friends and we have done some excellent bachelorette partying together in the past. Good omen. She’s incredibly excited to see me, super pumped about the two follicle situation, it’s all very exciting. I’m to take the trigger shot tonight at 9pm, and then come back 36 hours later at 9am to get inseminated.

Day 12.3: The Arizona pharmacy messed up. They didn’t send the trigger shot on time. It’s trapped in a sorting facility by the airport in a giant metal shipping crate. On the way there, I stop to get a crowbar at the Home Depot to pry the crate open… Just kidding. My amazing doctor friend texts me and tells me that follicles grow slow, I’m not to stress, I’ll do it the next day! Sends me a GIF of some cute sperms swimming and a text that says “I’m excited I hopefully get to knock u up!” (Chillest. Best. Doctor. Ever.)

Day 12.4: Spent the night googling what the heck a follicle is. Turns out, follicles are where the eggs come from. You get one, and rarely two or more follicles every month. This is called the dominant follicle. Follicles happen in your left and right ovary, but the dominant one appears in one or the other, and switches from left to right every other month. When the follicle gets big enough, it explodes, and the egg emerges from it, and that’s ovulation. I think.

Day 13: The HGC trigger shot finally arrives via FedEx in the afternoon. Which means, I have to wake up at 2:30 in the morning to inject myself for my 2:30 in the afternoon appointment 36 hours later. I watch this video to prepare.

Day 14.1: (2:30am) I watch my video again to prepare, and then I begin to mix the compounds. I take a syringe, take some air out of the powder jar, put it into the liquid jar, then I take the liquid from the liquid jar, put it in the powder jar, and then swirl gently to combine. Then, I switch the needle to the injecting needle, and I prepare the shot. My lifetime of watching medical dramas has been waiting for this moment. I’m fully prepared. Am I prepared for having to get it in a spot in my butt that I can’t reach? Probably not, but this is what I signed up for going at this alone. (Brief J-Lo fantasy moment that this time doesn’t work and the next time the love of my life injects me and we laugh, and laugh, and then we snuggle…) I awkwardly reach behind me, and stab the needle into the fleshy part and press the plunger. It. Is. Finished. I go back to bed.

Trigger Shot. Just kidding, that’s a Jello Shot!

Day 14.2: I wake up this morning ANGRY. HCG has one side effect on me. It’s anger. I hate everything, everyone, I can’t talk unless it’s in an angry voice, keeping my shit together for more than 30 minutes is HARD. HCG is the pee of a pregnant woman. Or horse. Or anything pregnant. But it’s pee. Some people use it to diet, but in this case, it’s forcing my folicle to erupt so that egg comes out. So that’s also happening. Day 14.2 can kiss my ass. But I’m fine. It’s fine.

Day 15: The big day. I arrive at 2:30 for my appointment, and a nurse is holding the teeny tiny vial of sperm in her hand. Her and the other nurses have been passing it around for the past half hour, bringing it from cryotank frozen to sperm temperature with the love radiating from their hands. Aww. I sit on the edge of the patient bed in a windowless room. Yes, glamorous conditions for conceiving. My doctor excitedly walks in with a posse. She’s got a nurse and a student doctor. She wants to know if the student doctor can watch and learn. My response? “The more the merrier!” (Hindsight, super odd thing to say during a conception.) She takes a syringe with a 6 inch soft, thin attachment on it. Think about the science of that product design. Wink wink. Sperm goes in, pillow goes under my butt to raise my hips, and I’m left in the windowless room with a 20 minute timer to allow the spermies a head start on their journey. I spent the 20 minutes after on my phone. See? Not everything was different than the old fashioned way. Just kidding. That was funny though, you have to admit it. My doctor runs out of the room with a drop of leftover sperm to look at it under a microscope. She said they were incredible. All 38 million of them! My favorite part was after my 20 minutes she let me look at them too, and they were still swimming. It was BEAUTIFUL. I’ll never be able to look at that particular bodily fluid the same every again.

The 6 inch syringe aka turkey baster

Day 16: What better way to celebrate an insemination than to throw a party for 100 of your closest friends? You can read the article here.

Day 17-26: Just living my life. Pretending I’m stress free. Pretending I’m not thinking about it 24/7 and wondering if every little feeling in my body is a pregnancy symptom. Just lying my way through the days.

Day 27.1/Day 1: My SIL kept trying to get me to pee on a stick on days 25 and 26. I refused (mostly because I really wanted to enjoy that last glass of wine) In hindsight, I wish I would have peed on that stick. I would have MUCH rather found out that it didn’t work and I wasn’t pregnant from a stick rather than my day early, vengeful period arriving.

Day 27.2/Day 1: Toughest part about today was that it wasn’t just the end of IUI Round 1, it was also Day 1 of IUI Round 2. I had the morning to deal with the emotions of finding out that I wasn’t pregnant, and some time mid day to decide if I was ready or wanted to embark on a Round 2, and then the afternoon to commit, make my calls, and start preparing for Round 2. Wild round of emotions.

Now that you know the process, you’ll know what I’m up against for Round 2. Wish me luck!

Thanks for joining me on my journey,

Lisa

1 Year

by lisadiane

It was March, 2018. I had just exited yet another long term turned wrong term relationship. And I wanted a baby. Yes, I could have stayed in that wrong term relationship and had all my baby-making dreams come true, but in those dreams this particular relationship didn’t come with a lifetime of happiness for myself, or us. Our hopes and dreams didn’t align*. And neither did our love languages. (The 5 Love Languages is the single most influential book of my life that has helped pave my personal and professional life’s every success. That, and The Secret. Watch it. Power through. The message is important.)

So I got a dog, and called a doctor. The dog was a no-brainer. I missed having that unconditional love only a dog could give, but I also wanted to start reassuring myself that a lifetime of 24/7 commitment was something I still wanted. Could I still travel? And give work 110%? And have a social life? And take my dog with me? The answer was yes. And still is yes. Best decision I’ve made in years. I’m currently sitting at my local Colectivo writing this while my perfect angel baby sits quietly and people watches. Her favorite hobby.

The most amazing dog in the universe, Sushi.

The doctor on the other hand? The doctor was a bigger, scarier commitment. First of all, she was booked out until May. A great thing, because I can be impulsive and too decisive, and this was no puppy. I was terrified. I waited in the cold sterile room for this doctor that I had never met who was in complete control of my destiny to come in. And I practiced in my head what I would say. And in true Lisa fashion, rehearsed what she would say back, and so and so forth until I had manifested the outcome. My inner monologue is a scary place to be. As you know, fantasy is never the same as reality, so what really happened I never saw coming.

Me: (shaking, scared, apprehensive) “I’m thinking about having a baby by myself.”

Her: (ambivalent, amused, nonplussed) “Great! Let’s look at sperm donors! (Pulls up a website on the computer) Look, this guy has a black belt!”

Never in a million years in a million fantasies was the epic decision to have a child by myself so clear. For someone I had just met to respond to me with humor and unconditional trust in my decision was the ultimate sign for me. She then explained how she normally doesn’t talk money with patients, but in this situation, she does. She gave me my two options, IUI and IVF, and explained the difference in procedure and cost. I’ll get into procedure later, but lets just say that IUI is 1/20 the cost of IVF and the only avenue I could afford. The whole appointment was so reassuring and comfortable that I knew what I was going to do. None-the-less, I decided to give myself a year to consider all options and really vet this decision.

Over the course of May 2018-May 2019, I would say my biggest challenge with committing to this decision was the man part. No matter how feminist this decision looked and felt, I desperately desired for my life to become a Rom-Com** and Prince Charming would show up and we would be perfectly aligned in our hopes and dreams and do this thing together. (ie. “The Back Up Plan” with J-Lo. Premise: She gets inseminated, on the way home, meets *the guy* in the cab, they fall in love, he comes to all her appointments with her, becomes the father of the twins (!) and then they “accidentally” get pregnant quickly after the twins with their own DNA sharing child(ren) and life is perfect)

I painfully spent a year realizing my life is about as far away from a Rom-Com movie as possible. My life is entirely more of the “Com” part than the “Rom” part. I had strike out after strike out. In hindsight, most of the stories of my strike outs are fun to tell (my friends tell me). My heart broke a little every time though. Mostly for my future child. Because I do want them to have a present father. But also for me. Because life is more fun when you have someone you can do it with. Life that is. Get your head out of the gutter. Ok, and “that”.

But then, some random day in February of 2019, I finally felt at peace with myself being enough. Because I’m extra. Just kidding (but not really). I did realize that I wasn’t lying to myself when I always told people,

I don’t NEED a man, I WANT a man.

So here I am world! Doing the thing! Alone. And I’m going to tell you the story. Because that’s who I am. And who I will always be. And if I don’t share my story for other people to commiserate with, who will? And frankly, I could use all the support I can get.

Thanks for joining me on my journey,

Lisa

*Hopes and dreams include: a lakehouse, downtown condo, snowbird villa, and much international travel.

**Rom-Com=Romantic Comedy