Photo Hunter #53: Self

Belly Shot #1: 14 weeks, 5 days
Nothing to see here, check back in a couple of weeks

I'd like very much to claim that what you're looking at in this photo is a brand-new "baby bump" (ugh, I hate that term for some reason!) but it's pretty much just some tummy flab that was there long before Peeper was a sparkle in anybody's eye.

Over the past couple of days, though, I have started to notice that my lower belly seems to be getting firmer, so I think Peeper is finally going over the wall, my uterus is clearing my pelvic bones, and I should expect to start seeing something soon.

So, I figured I'd better go ahead and get a baseline "before" photo, before I start having something real to show off!

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It's Not the PowerBall, But We'll Take It

There are a few bills that I've been ignoring lately, because I didn't think that we really owed them money, so I figured if I just didn't pay them, they'd go away.

Oddly enough, that strategy seems to have worked. In spades.

First, there was a bill for $130-odd from the dentist. When I had all that work done back in January and February, they told me what my insurance would and wouldn't cover and I paid the difference up front, so I couldn't figure out how I still owed them anything.

I finally called yesterday to check on it and, whaddya know, I have a $0 balance, and it's all good. Woo hoo, victory #1.

Then I called the fertility clinic, about a couple of different bills that we've received lately, one for $75 to a pathology lab for my endometrial biopsy, and one for $707 to the clinic, for Shrike's prescreening lab work.

It was my understanding that all that was covered in the damn-near $40,000 that we paid them for the "all-inclusive" shared risk IVF fee.

When I talked to the donor IVF financial girl today, she explained that the $707 wouldn't actually be that much, because that was before they billed Shrike's insurance company. $6o of it was something that had been denied, but they ought to pay 80% of the remainder, so we should only owe around $200.

Okay, that's a big improvement, but I reiterated that I thought this was all covered by what we'd already paid.

"Oh no, that was for the IVF. The prescreening is separate," she told me.

"But we got the all inclusive plan, and paid you like $40,000, and that was supposed to cover everything."

"Well, I'm looking at your account, and you've got the $25,000 donor IVF, and $8000 prescreening and $6500 donor meds and, oh wait, hang on a minute. . . ."

After putting me on hold forever, she came back on the line and asked if she could look into it and get back to me later today.

Sure, no problem - because this was already covered and I don't want to pay $200 that I don't think we owe.

A couple of hours later, I received this email from her:

I wanted to let you know the update on your account. It looks like you had purchased the shared risk all inclusive program, included your donor's prescreening.

At this point, I'm thinking "Yay, we don't owe them $200!" but she continues. . .

What I should have done was only collected the shared risk fees of ivf & medications since Shrike had insurance for pre-screening.

Hmmm . . . .

So our supervisor is in the process of returning that $8,000 fee back to you and then you will just pay the balance of what Shrike's insurance will not pick up after being submitted.

No. Fucking. Way .

I called back to confirm that I'd understood that correctly.

Yep, they are cutting us a check for $8000 that we never should have paid them.

Out of that, we'll have to pay the $75 for my test, plus what the insurance doesn't cover of Shrike's tests - but it won't be 20% of $707, it will be $60, plus 20% of the "authorized amount" which is bound to be well less than what they are billing for. So, probably less than $200 or so.

With the rest of the money, we will pay off the home equity loan, and then still have about $2000 to pay on my car.

I am a bit annoyed that, by the time we get the check, we will have paid six months of interest on a loan that we never actually needed, but on the other hand, not only could they have just told me, "Oh yeah, you're right, that was covered," today, and kept their $8000 along with whatever Shrike's insurance company pays, but back in December they wrote off about $2500 in bills that we had expected my insurance company would pay but they didn't.

So, I don't suppose I've really got grounds to complain about less than $200 in interest charges.

Oh yeah, and they made us a baby, so you know, there's that.

As I said above, we haven't exactly won the lottery, and we're not exactly home-free, but we will be home-equity-debt-free, and that is huge.

We were only paying about $100/month on that loan (plus "found money" like tax refunds and "economic stimulus" checks) so it doesn't change our cash flow much but it does make it a little more acceptable to consider using that line of credit for upcoming Peeper-preparation expenses, and to help with over-all expenses while I'm out on maternity leave - especially since I'd like to take twelve weeks, but probably won't have but about a week of paid leave saved up (if that) plus my Aflac coverage.

So, I'd definitely have to say that this is the second best news we've ever gotten from the folks at the fertility clinic!

It's Crazy Time, Sprout!

It's been a little over two weeks since our most recent peek at Peeper, and there are four days to go til my next appointment (I don't expect an ultrasound then, but probably a listen with the Doppler), so it's about that time again.

You know, the time when I start freaking out because I've haven't had any proof at all for days - days, I tell you! - that all is well in there, so how could I possibly know that Peeper is okay?!?

Here's the basic pattern that I've been in for, oh, the past 10 weeks or so:

• Consult a medical professional and see positive pee stick / positive beta / rising beta / ultrasound images of an actual live human residing inside my body.
• Feel incredibly relieved and reassured.
• Blog / email / tell the entire world that all is well with Peeper.
• Coast for a few days, feeling great about things.
• Be asked 534,322 times by well-meaning friends and associates, "So, how are you feeling?"
• Answer that, "I'm feeling just fine. Quite normal, actually."
• Begin to wonder why I'm feeling so damn "normal."
• Wonder why I'm not having any of those legendary awful pregnancy symptoms that one hears so much about.
• Begin to think that it's all been a cruel trick, an elaborate conspiracy, or perhaps just a pathetic fantasy.
• Think about how completely stupid I'm going to look when the jig is up.
• Fret, worry, act like a general all-around nutball.
• Consult a medical professional and see positive pee stick / positive beta / rising beta / ultrasound images of an actual live human residing within my body.
• Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Yep, it's big fun for all involved.

Shrike and I have decided that the "other side" of Gestation Island (you know, over where the headhunters live) is Crazy Pregnant Land.

I like to head over there as often as possible.

Shrike's not so much a fan.

I think it's a combination of the general, all-around surreality of it all, the "you can't have a dream!" expectation that I tend have and, most concretely, how asymptomatic, and quite frankly, how damn (dare I say it outloud) easy pregnancy has been for me so far.

With so few symptoms, I've not got much to go on but the ultrasounds (and thank God there have been so many of them) so, while I know it's completely irrational, I do think that it's at least a little bit understandable (maybe?) that I would doubt the reality of the situation.

There's also this related prior experience that I keep being reminded of, which has to be contributing to my craz-ee-ness:

Several years ago, when MamaCat was just a WannaBeMamaCat (well, okay, I wanted her to be a MamaCat; she didn't have a whole lot to say about it) I fixed her up with a nice young tom cat (owned by a lady who went to church with LadyKay, so I knew he came from a good family) and arranged a little romantic rendezvous for the two of them.

Actually, first there was a brief, not-so-romantic visit at his house, during which she hid behind the couch for twenty-four hours, showing zero interest in him. We decided she was on her way out of heat, and I took her home to wait for the next round.

In a couple of weeks, the mood struck her again and this time, KittyDaddy CatDaddy (™ Shrike) spent Thanksgiving weekend with us, and let me tell ya, he had plenty to be thankful for by the time he went home - if you know what I mean, wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

(MamaCat, maybe not so much. Do you know about the barbs? I'm assuming this is why she turned around and smacked the shit out of him as soon as he finished doing his biz-ness. Every time. Kind of kinky, those kitties.)

Any-whooo. Her paramour went home, and I assumed that: a> she's a cat, and b> she just had a long-weekend of repeated kitty-nooky, ergo, make room for kittens.

On the advice of my vet, I started feeding her kitten food and vitamins, and soon she started putting on weight (she was pretty skinny to start with), and didn't come into heat (typically, she was in and out about every two weeks) so I figured I was going to have some grandkitties in a couple of months.

As the weeks progressed, I did wonder when she was going to start getting a belly, rather than just generally "filling out" and when her nipples were going to "pink up" as my feline pregnancy calendar (what? you got a problem with that?) predicted.

Then, about six weeks into her "pregnancy," she started acting like she was heat.

What the fuck?

I took her to the vet, and he confirmed that she was in heat, and was not, nor had she ever been, pregnant.

(Two theories - either she didn't have enough weight on her to be ovulating, or CatDaddy wasn't quite ready for the big leagues, as he was still fairly young at that point.)

Because of logistical concerns, I waited a couple of weeks til her next heat, invited him back over, and nine weeks later BoyCat, GirlCat and two their brothers arrived.

In that situation, all's well that ends well, but I sure felt stupid that I'd been thinking my cat was pregnant - and telling everybody that she was pregnant - and maybe kind of wondering why she wasn't showing many signs of pregnancy, but still just going right along with the whol "she's pregnant" thing for weeks.

(The weight gain is easily explained by the kitten food, although I don't know why she skipped a heat cycle or two.)

Within a few weeks of their second honeymoon, her nipples pinked right up, her belly got all hard and round (I have a very cute photo of her a few days before they were born, standing up on her hindlegs, in profile, looking all the world like a furry little pregnant lady.) and I could feel the kittens moving around in there when we snugged at night, and sometimes I could see them moving - from across the room.

Yep, no doubt she was really pregnant this time, and I felt even stupider for getting tricked the first time around.

Now, of course, MamaCat hadn't peed on any sticks, or taken any blood tests, or had six fucking ultrasounds, by four different doctors at three different clinics (really now, could they all be in on the conspiracy?) so the analogy doesn't really hold up very well, but the whole "I'm being told that I'm pregnant, but not seeing the symptoms I expect" thing is just a little too deja vu for my comfort.

(Keeping in mind, of course, that I'm crazy. Which makes it much more understandable. Right?)

Of course, if I really go through the list of possible pregnancy symptoms with a fine-toothed comb, more and more do start popping up, that I actually have experienced:

• Fatigue - more extreme in the first few weeks, better now (just like the books say)
• Sore boobs - again, this is much less over the past few weeks (just like the books say)
• Shrike tells me that my boobs are bigger (bras were already getting snug, so hard to judge)
• I do seem to pee alot.
• And cry alot. Over really stupid stuff. Like anything a little, tiny bit mushy on TV. Or in a song. Or a book. Or my imagination.
• Shrike says I'm little grumpy. (Bitch.)
• I suspect that Peeper may already be eating my brain.
• Maybe, maybe, possibly, my pants might be starting to get a teeny bit snugger in the tummy, at least when I first put them on in the morning.
• And, I suppose all those betas and ultrasounds ought to count for something, huh?

On the other hand: no nausea, no food aversions, no smell-sensitivities, my pants still fit, I could go on and on.

I know, I know, I know that I should count myself very lucky that things have gone so smoothly and been so easy, so far (especially given how damn complicated it was to get pregnant in the first place) and I should apologize to all the pukey pregnant gals out there for not fully appreciating it, but I'd like to think that I'd be a little less crazy (at least about this) if I felt more pregnant.

I know I'm being completely irrational, and that your logical arguments probably will not make me any more secure about Peeper's well-being, but I'd certainly appreciate any stories that anyone might have of a> completely normal, successful, yet primarily asymptomatic in the earlyish stages pregnancies, so I can be reassured that one can feel completely "normal" and still be completely pregnant and / or b> your own ridiculous, irrational pregnancy fears, so that I can feel a little less crazy, in comparison.

Wordless Wednesday #63: Pirate Ships

There's a small airport near our home, which does a lot of skydiving. You can watch them from our backyard on pretty much any nice day.

Once, when our niece was about four, we were telling her, "Look at the parachutes!" and she said, "What pirate ships?"

So, now, that's what they're called at our house.

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ouse.

Ten on Tuesday #33

10 Favorite Time-Wasters

1. Blogging


2. Reading other people's blogs
   
3. Reading email
   
4. Reading pregnancy-related websites
   
5. Miscellaneous web surfing
   
6. Watching my "baby shows" on TiVo (A Baby Story, Bringing Home Baby, etc)
   
7. Watching political shows on TiVO (The Daily Show, The Colbert Report)
   
8. Watching whatever else TiVO has found for me
   
9. Hitting the snooze alarm
   
10. My commute - it can't be avoided, and it's not something I do on purpose, but it wastes about 90 minutes of every day, which I really don't have to spare (see above - I've already pissed away all my other free time!)

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Swimmy Pups

This is some footage from our walk today. I decided to spare you the groundhog carnage.

Manic Monday #34

1. Do good things come to those who wait?
   No. Sometimes good things happen to people who've been waiting for them, of course, but sometimes good things happen right away, and sometimes they never do. I don't think that "waiting" has anything to do with it. That's just something we tell ourselves while we're waiting to make ourselves feel better.
   
2. Your best friend's spouse is being unfaithful. Would you tell your friend? If so, how?
   I think I would stay out of it; it's none of my business.
   
   
3. Which part of your body do you like the least? Would you change it through plastic surgery, if possible?
   My sag (everywhere) which is a result of my weightloss. I would like to have plastic surgery on at least a few parts (starting with my belly, because it's the worst and maybe my arms next, because they are the most "public." Or maye even the arms first, for that reason. Someday, after Peeper is weaned, I may pursue it.

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Another Beautiful Day

Today was pretty much a replay of yesterday - dog walking, trying to decide what to do with the rest of the day, shopping without much to show for it, that's about it.

I did take some video of the pups in the woods, and as soon as I learn how, I'll post some clips.

The actual posting, I've got down; I've done that before with video clips from my camera, but I have to learn how to use the editing software that came with the camera.

I'm afraid that might involve actually reading the instructions.

I think I may tackle that tomorrow, while Shrike's at work.

(I'm off tomorrow; she was off Thursday and Friday. That figures.)

Spring Planting

It's a beautiful day here in our neighborhood, and we made the most of it.

First, we finally got around to planting my veggies.

The three pots in the back row are tomatoes, the two in the middle row are red bellpeppers, and the trough in front will have onions, as soon as we buy some. (They were out the day we bought the others.)

The flowers in the front were birthday gifts - on the left are gerbera daisies, and on the right are violas, or "monkey faces."

The table they're on is actually a wood rack that Shrike built a couple of years ago. We no longer have any wood stored on it, so she suggested moving it onto the patio for the plants, so that they can get sunlight, but BigGaloot can't get to them. Genuis!

After that, we hung out in the yard for a while, and even took a little nap on a blanket on the lawn.

Then we walked the dogs down by the railroad track, and in the woods. No dog-created carnage today, but there was one casualty, when Shrike tried to show off by jumping from a bank about three feet high onto a big rock by the creek. (We'd climbed up the bank a few minutes earlier, after crossing the creek to track down the dogs.)

It looked pretty cool at first, but then she lost her footing and landing smack on her ass on the rock. I could tell it hurt then, and I've noticed her wincing several times, as she's sat down or moved the wrong way. I suspect her tailbone is pretty bruised, but I guess there's really not much to be done about it - other than make fun of her for being a dumbass.

(And a broken ass.)

Later we did a bit of shopping. We picked up some wood for a project Shrike's got in mind for Peeper's room - cubes to stack into rearrangable storage shelves; I'll report in on how it goes.

Then we finally made it over to Circuit City and used our birthday money to buy a digital video camera. Woo hoo!

I'll probably play with that a bit tomorrow, and will try posting some videos when I figure out how.

Then dinner and ice cream, and now we're home and about ready for bed.

Whew.

Wild Night on the Town

Haircuts, then dinner with a friend.

We'll try not to get too crazy.