Lucky

Perfect.
Not a word I'm used to hearing when it comes to my pregnancies, but I heard it today.

I was nervous as hell going in. It was the u/s tech that isn't my favorite. She dilly dallies taking measurements for far too long before showing me proof of life. Fortunately as she was zooming around looking at my ovaries, I saw a faint flicker that I knew was a heartbeat. I felt the knots in my stomach ease.

It was quick. She said "It's bigger. Much bigger." She took some measurements, then zoomed in on the heartbeat. In the end, the baby measured 7.8w with a heartrate of 156. I'm 7.7w pregnant, so that's pretty darned good.

We went off to see Dr. K. We chatted and went over when I can stop the metformin & the prometrium (13w and 10w, respectively) and that was pretty much it. On the way out the door she commented that this seemed like a quick visit. I said it was. I wish all her patients could be so lucky. And I meant it. I feel a fair amount of survivor's guilt that one round of Clomid/IUI and a few weeks later, I'm off to be my OB with a pregnancy deemed viable. I've watched so many people struggle through so much more.I got lucky. That's new to me. I promise I don't take it for granted.

David and I parted in the parking lot, but of us smiling. I will call my OB & Dr. Bitchy tomorrow to set up appointments. I haven't outed myself at work yet, but I do feel like we are now looking towards that. And we can start worrying about things like preeclampsia instead of imminent miscarriage. Lucky me.

--Trish