All still looks well. LSP is measuring right on at 8w5d, so all caught up for now. Heartbeat’s up to nearly 166 bpm. With a CRL of 21.05 mm, s/he’s looking something like either this or this. I’m guessing somewhat more like the latter than the former, because – get this: we even saw it move a few times. (!!!!!moreeleventy!!11!!)
So Frankie/Peanut definitely still lives, and is crazy close to the “end of the embryonic period,” meaning we are almost into Cletus the Fetus territory. I am of course thrilled about this, and at times can barely wipe the idiot grin off my face. But frankly, I don’t feel like I’m really quite believing this – even though I’m actually seeing it weekly still. It seems so surreal that I am truly almost nine weeks pregnant. I am loving it, yet at the same time disturbed how clear it’s becoming that a large part of my brain never believed this would happen – or, rather, believed this never would happen…if that distinction makes any sense. I still try to steel myself and imagine my initial reaction if the RE were to say that there’s no heartbeat. But seconds before and after those awful thoughts I am reminding myself to ask him about the flu shot and continuing meds and OB care after I “graduate.” I do spend most late mornings and the majority of the afternoons feeling pretty gross, but I’ve still only thrown up that one time. I’m tired, but rarely sleepy enough to actually nap or fall out for the night much earlier than usual. I have symptoms…it just seems like they’re not quite intense enough to reassure me much beyond three or four days after a scan. So I’m still going back next week. Maybe after that one I’ll venture to go two whole weeks. And then…I should be about done with the RE. I figure I will feel like an even bigger farce as an OB patient. But I am starting to believe I will actually be one – so that’s something, something kind of huge.
Anyway, I did get some questions answered. I can (and should, I guess) get a flu shot. Staying on the heparin and prednisone past 12 weeks are “open for discussion,” (PHEW), but I will stop the progesterone (fine) and the metformin (hmmm) at 12 weeks or so. Stopping the metformin doesn’t bother me as much as the heparin would, so overall I’m feeling pretty good about his attitude toward the meds. I think it’s fairly reasonable. The studies I read on the met were great for giving me hope at the time I was starting it and still imagining even getting and staying pregnant past six weeks. I’d have to go back and confirm, but I don’t think there was a huge difference in live birth outcome between staying on it for the first trimester and continuing on for the majority of the pregnancy – and there is a tiny association with cleft lip/palate, I believe. So I think I can make my peace with stopping that one. Getting gestational diabetes would suck, but it’s a very manageable complication so far as I know, and it’s not as though stopping met guarantees I’ll have it or anything. The prednisone is a minuscule dose, so it’s hard to weigh how much reassurance I’m really getting from that, let alone how much actual physical benefit – could be significant, could be nothing but placebo. The heparin…I feel attached to, as silly as it is. I thought I would hate it because it would remind me of the last pregnancy ending so quickly, but as I watch my piles of used syringes and emptied vials grow, it looks like accomplishment, of a sort. But I’m still willing to be convinced that I could go off of it and be fine. I just hate feeling like it would be an experiment. I mean, it’s all technically an experiment, but I’m invested enough here to not of course be willing to accept an adverse outcome as at all “worth it” in the name of learning something.
Back to one day at a time!