The first picture

This is my beanie’s first picture. It was taken on March 19, 2010. Do you see that small white shape in the middle of the black oval? That's her. The doctor said that based on my beanie’s crown-to-rump size, she’s 5 weeks and 5 days old already. (Oh, and yes, I don’t know the sex yet, but I want a girl, so I’m using female pronouns here. Universe, take a hint!)

According to babycenter.com, at 5 weeks, my beanie’s growing at a furious pace. She looks more like a tiny tadpole than a human, and is now made up of three layers — the ectoderm, the mesoderm, and the endoderm — which will later form all of her organs and tissues.

Well, I certainly didn’t see any of those layers when I did the TVS. What I saw was this peanut-looking thing that’s pulsating, much like a small, very lightly flickering christmas light. She measured at 2.2 mm. only (which is normal, for her age). Can you imagine how small 2.2 mm is? Without magnification, it’s about the length of a Times New Roman, font 12 long dash. Like this: –. And it still amazes me that something that small is actually human.

I’m due for another sonogram on Saturday, March 27, and by that time, my beanie should be 7 weeks and 6 days old already – almost 8 weeks. At that point, so much of her body parts should have already started to develop: at 6 weeks, her nose, mouth, and ear have already began to take shape, as well as her intestines, lungs, pituitary gland, brain, muscles, and bones. At 7, hands and feet should have also emerged, although they would look more like paddles, and she will still have a small tail. By the 8th week, webbed fingers and toes will start to poke out.

It’s exciting and amazing and nerve-wracking. And very definitely faith-building. In such short time so much happens. My body has been turned into a factory that manufactures a person. And I’m the factory owner that has absolutely no control over the manufacturing process. All I can do is pray and ask God to take hold of the procedure.

Ectopic Scare

I believe I am completely justified about my fear that this pregnancy is going to be one roller-coaster ride of joys and horrors and thrills and crashes. The very day I found out I was pregnant was exactly like that!

I have already written about the faint second line in the pregnancy test that surprised us that first day. That came as a complete shock to me and Moks. But it was the good kind of shock, the kind that got us excited and scared and excited some more.

But we kept our elation contained, because we did not know to trust the faint line completely. So that morning, we rushed to the hospital and met with the first OB we could find. We wanted an expert to confirm that we have a tax deduction on the way.

The OB seemed good, she was a former president of the Philippine Obstetrical and Gynecological Society. I told her I got a positive result from the pregnancy test I took that morning. She made me repeat the test right there in her clinic, and the faint line appeared again. She congratulated us – our first yes from an expert.

Then she proceeded to do a physical exam on me. I have been going to the OB for several months now because of my polycystic ovaries, so dropping my pants and undies and opening up in the doctor's clinic is no issue. She said I already have an enlarged uterus, which is a sign that I am indeed pregnant. I counted that as the second yes from her.

Then she turned on the sonogram machine and prepared to do a trans-vaginal sonogram (TVS) so we can see the baby. At this time, I was already anticipating a touching, magical moment when I will first see the tiny peanut-looking creature in me.

It took her several minutes to get the machine going. It looked so old the wires were already visible from the bottom of the screen. And the monitor was this jurassic, small, bulky, personal TV-type thing that I could not see clearly. But still, I was excited.

So she did that one maneuver that got the camera inside my, well, cavity and started looking around. At first the monitor refused to cooperate - much like an old black-and-white TV that you have to kick to get the picture clear. After a few taps, the monitor came alive. Here we go, I thought.

She looked at my uterus, and said my endometrium is indeed very thick, which is a good thing. Yey for me. She looked some more without saying anything, and I thought she was trying to heighten the suspense. Fine by me, I like dramatics.

Then she looked closely at the screen, then looked at me with furrowed brows, and said there's no baby inside. My ears rang. My tummy groaned. About 4 muscles in my face moved and turned my smile into a grimace.

It was then that the OB started talking about the possibility of an ectopic pregnancy. She explained to me all about it while she was looking at my fallopian tubes and ovaries. I think she thought she was being very helpful and informative - she did not realize that every word she's saying is scaring the crap out of me. When I finally got my voice back, I asked her, what can we do to help the baby if it's an ectopic pregnancy? And she gave me the line no expectant mother would ever want to hear:

An ectopic pregnancy is not a viable pregnancy. Once we establish that it's ectopic, we have to terminate. A ruptured ectopic pregnancy is one of the usual causes of maternal death.

I have to give myself props for not hyperventilating that very second. Termination and maternal death are words I was not expecting to hear on my first pre-natal check-up. My touching, magical moment rapidly turned into a twilight zone-like scene.

She showed me pictures of what the baby should look like by now if it were an intra-uterine pregnancy. She said that based on my last menstrual period, I am already 5 and a half weeks pregnant, which means we should already be seeing the gestational sac, and possible a fetal pole. But she stressed, as though herself confused, that my uterus is empty.

She gave me pre-natal vitamins anyway – according to her, just in case it’s still an early pregnancy which is why it’s not yet visible. She told me to watch out for any spotting, or any abdominal paid. And she said, the moment I get those symptoms, I should text her and then rush to the delivery room.

I went out of her clinic a mess. Again, it says a lot about my optimism that I was able to tell Moks anyway that she said it looks like I am pregnant, but that we did not see anything in the sonogram yet. I think I mentioned the possibility of it being an ectopic pregnancy, but unconsciously, my brain decided not to dwell on it that day.

The next few days were crazy for me. I went to the bathroom every hour to check for blood. The mildest cramp scared me. After 3 days, I could not contain my fear anymore, and I texted the OB about the cramps I was having. She told me to go to her clinic the next day.

During that second visit, she made me take another pregnancy test, and this time, the line was very clear. She said it means I’m really definitely pregnant. She did another TVS, and still no baby inside the uterus. Which led her to heighten her suspicion that it was an ectopic pregnancy. Which led me to be terrified about and for the baby, instead of ecstatic about it.

I took the beta hCG test that day. The OB said if it shows that I already have 10,000 mIU of hCG in my blood, it means the pregnancy is already advanced which means it should already be seen in the TVS, which means that the fact that it’s not yet seen means it’s ectopic. She said once I get the result and it’s above 10,000, I should immediately call her and rush to the delivery room, so she can open me up and explore where the pregnancy is located. I did not ask what she will do if she sees the baby outside the uterus – I didn’t think I could bear to hear a statement from her using the word “terminate” again.

I waited the whole day for the result. I texted friends and family to pray about it. I was praying too, mostly that it will show less than 10,000 mIU, and a little that I will have the courage to go through this if it turns out to be ectopic.

I think I was only able to breathe freely at 5:00 p.m. that day. I got the result, and it showed 1,274 mIU only. Definitely still early in the pregnancy, so higher possibility that it’s not ectopic. I breathed a million thank you’s that time.

The following day, I went to another OB just to ask for a request for another beta hCG test, so I can have it done in another lab, because I did not have the time to go back to the hospital. I told the new OB my history, and she was surprised that I was doing blood tests already. She said it’s too early to detect an ectopic pregnancy, and that there are still a lot of possible scenarios why the baby is still not visible.

At that point, I realized the first OB I consulted may be too aggressive, and too panicky for me. And I was already wondering if she’s being that way to earn more – on my first visit, she charged me P3,500, and on my second, P2,500. So I decided to look for a different OB.

I did find a new OB a week later. And she ordered another TVS. I had it done at St. Luke’s, and I was very happy that their sonogram machine was modern, and had a big screen monitor. And it was in that big monitor that I got my touching, magical moment, when I first saw my little beanie baby – alive, pulsating, and definitely inside the uterus.

The Waist Report

My pregnancy book says I should take a long, good look at my waist already, because it's going to disappear soon, and it will be a while before I see it again.

I have not been particularly blessed with a small waist, even pre-pregnancy. I think the smallest I've gone during my adult life was 24 inches, and that was when I was 18 years old. The past couple of years, I was moving around 27 to 29, except during my wedding month, when I shrunk to 26.

Now, I'm determined to document my "waist expansion", in photos and in measurement. I can't find my tape measure at home so I'm not sure what my exact measurement is right now, but based on the fact that I can still fit in my old jeans, albeit a little tighter this time, I would guess I'm now at 29.5 or 30.

My goal is to return to 27 inches 6 months after pregnancy. Pray with me. :p

The Uneventful Discovery

March 5, 2010. I had just finished the final interview for a new job I was eyeing, and I was anticipating that the job offer will come the following week. I was already planning how I will tell my boss that I'm resigning, when I suddenly remembered that my period has not come yet. It has been 35 days since my last. Granted, I'm very irregular - it has happened more than once that my period comes somewhere between days 40 and 45. But I am planning to move to a new job, and pregnancy might be a consideration there, so I thought it best to "rule it out".

That night, before I went to bed, I got one of my stock pregnancy test kits from the closet, plus a plastic disposable cup. I placed them on my nightstand so I can remember to do the test with my first morning pee. I went to sleep thinking the chances of me being pregnant are very slim, I'm probably wasting a pregnancy test kit again. Sigh.

March 6, 2010. I woke up at 5;30 a.m. to pee. I'm normally only half-awake when I pee during the night, and on a Saturday, 5:30 a.m. is still very much "during the night" to me. I turned on my bedside lamp and saw the cup and kit, and I was jolted out of sleep. This pee can turn out to be interesting.

So I went to the bathroom, did the test, and decided to wait inside for the result. Three to 5 minutes, right? I fixed the toiletries rack, wiped the sink, and pretty much cleaned up a bit. I was expecting a single line, and I was thinking, come on show up already so I can go back to bed. About a minute later, I glanced at the stick, and I remember the exact thoughts I had at that moment:

huh? Is that a...? No way. No way. No way. Is it really there? It's faint, but it looks like it's there. No way. No way. No way.

I went out of the bathroom with the loudest thump in my chest and the biggest smile on my face. I laid down in bed and hugged my husband, Moks. He's a heavy sleeper, but somehow, he was awaken by my hug. He sleepily asked,

What?

Nothing.

What??

Nothing. Well, not really nothing. I mean, it could be something. I did the test, and it looks like there's a second line there.

Really? Let me see.

I handed him the strip. He's still half-asleep:

Yes, there's definitely a second line there.

He handed the strip back to me and then went back to sleep. Five seconds later, he opened his eyes again, but a lot wider this time.

Wait. Does this mean you're pregnant?

Looks like it.

Neither of us was able to go back to sleep then. We spent the next few hours of that morning alternately looking at the test, mumbling "oh my God", clutching our chests, and grinning at each other.

Pregnant and freaked

Hello world!

This is my 4th attempt to keep a blog, but my first attempt to blog about pregnancy and the millions of joys and horrors that come with it.

I found out I am pregnant about 3 weeks ago. From that time on, I have bought and read the very popular What to Expect When You're Expecting book, and I have spent hours and hours googling about pregnancy and babies and being a mommy. Despite this, I still feel as clueless as a 2-year-old about it. Every new symptom I get is a cause for alarm, every new information - whether from my OB or from books and the internet - is suspect. I keep second-guessing everything.

To top all that, I now have a heightened sense of every little thing going on in my body. I've never paid as much attention to my heartbeat, my blood pressure, my body temperature, the veins on my stomach and legs, the tenderness of my breasts, the queasiness of my tummy, or the burning sensation in my esophagus as I do now. I'm a walking, talking stethoscope-microscope-BP monitor-mirror of myself.

So this blog is my attempt to document this period, which, as early as now, I foresee to be the craziest 9 months of my life. I hope by writing it all down, I would be able to retain some semblance of sanity.

So read on, journey with me, and get the low-down on my take on mommyhood.